It's been nearly 20 years now, but this is how it started.
My wife and I had been dating for about 6 months when my apartment lease was up. I lived close to my job in a somewhat developed suburb of Philadelphia. It was boring but had a supermarket, gym, and my job. Now this was a Co-op job at a place that had nothing for me once my 6 months was finished. So I was stuck with nothing to do in a boring place to live.
My wife lived in Olde City Philadelphia. She had a really cool studio loft apartment within walking distance of everything. Over the course of a few months, when my job finished, I essentially moved in. We never really talked about, it just happened. I had no reason to go back to my apartment, and to be honest I didn't want to go back. I also saved a lot of money working crazy hours at my job with nearly no expenses. I didn't have to work for a while and after graduating from college I just took a break.
The reason I didn't go back was something that came up this past weekend, with my kids asking about where I used to live.
I moved in for a number of reasons. She worked during the day so I wandered around the city. I would also go to different markets and get interesting things to make for dinner when she got home. I also enjoyed spending time with her and thought the relationship could continue to grow. But one of the other reasons, that of course today doesn't exist, is we had sex. Lots and lots of awesome sex.
Fast forward to this weekend and my wife expects me to say that I couldn't live without my soul mate and that is why I moved in. I won't say it's revisionist history because maybe that is what she really thought. I highly doubt it, but maybe it was.
My kids never asked why we moved in, they were just curious about where this happened. They have no interest in the why, and telling them my answer or my wife's would probably just weird them out. My wife is the one who brought up the why, and she was not the least bit happy that I didn't give her any answer, let alone the answer she wanted. I know what she wanted me to say. I have been down this road with her many many times.
Only now, I travel this road as a Red Pill/Recovering Beta. In the past I would have given her the answer she wanted. And in return for that I would have been given the opportunity to go jerk off in the basement because she still would not have had sex with me. Instead of telling the truth, which would have been inappropriate in front our kids, I choose not to say anything.
I won't say it's a good thing for our relationship, yet, but it certainly feels empowering when I consciously make decisions like this. My passive aggressive response in the past would have been a "whatever you say" making me feel crappy about not standing up and also make her angry. She was still angry, but it wasn't my fault.
I am not happy about where our relationship is now, and I won't pretend that it's always been this way. She may hate me for not giving in, but I am starting to learn how to respect MYSELF, which is something I have been struggling with since taking the Red Pill.
Yesterday was just one more step forward on my journey of reclaiming my life and masculinity.