How to go from shy to smooth – a personal story

2015-06-27 19.48.35I’ve become a very different and better person these past two years, there’s no denying that. Not long ago, getting a hug from a woman used to be a huge victory for me – it was only by going through several hundred horrible experiences that I started getting good at interacting with women. In the past, I used to look at couples, and wonder to myself how they did it. It is at this point, at which I came around to reading books like “The Game,” not much came from that. Sure, it opened to me the possibility that social skills were a skill just like any other, and they could be improved through learning the right techniques and practice. Nevertheless, my applications of concepts like Kino (using touch strategically to express sexual desire) and such left much to be desired – more than one woman rightfully  told me to go away after misapplying the ideas I read about.

That being said, it gave me marginally better results than I’d seen in my life, so I kept at it. It’s at this point, at which I made my way to university. During the first week at university, I realized that in the land of the blind, the one eyed man is king. Almost everyone, in any social setting, is suffering from some sort of mental anxiety or insecurity with other people. It’s the reason for why some men seek to overcompensate by being the loudest guys at the party, the drunkest, the most gentlemanly, or the most well-built; anything in an ill-conceived attempt to be the outlier, as being average is mediocre and boring.

At any rate, I managed to convince this one absolutely beautiful and intelligent Greek girl to give me her contact info. I was over the moon – she was well beyond my league, I thought to myself in the coming weeks, which soon became months. During this time, I tried, and tried in vain to get her to go out on a date with me. Kindly, she said she said she was too busy so we’d have to do it in the far off future. I didn’t let this dissuade me, as I’d never trodden this far down this particular road before, and I wasn’t about to let some waiting get in the way between me and her. So I waited, and waited some more, and eventually bumped into her at a house party at my place.

Gladly, I talked to her, joked with her. She laughed, seemed to really enjoy my company, and then I tried to playfully hug her. Easier said than done, when I lifted my arm to hug her, my hand started clenching and unclenching in a nervous fit. I realized there, that despite the fact that I could force myself to escalate on a woman who I wasn’t particularly interested in, it was quite another story for someone who I genuinely felt something for. I clearly needed some help, I’d come a long way by fixing the way I walked, the way I dressed, my actions, attitudes and thoughts towards sex, but overall I was still the exact same scared guy I had always been – I didn’t feel I had the right to be with someone in the upper echelons on the value ladder of the sexual marketplace.

Over the next couple of days, I decided to take a bootcamp from a Daygame Company I’d heard much about. “Daygame” being the craft and skillset of approaching and attracting women during the daytime. I thought that the old adage made sense, “if you’re good with all, you’re good with one,” so learning how to run up to and attract a beautiful girl on the street, at the drop of a hat made perfect sense. I’d saved up enough cash, fortunately the one course during my winter break was cheaper than usual, and it had their star instructors lined up. They were all celebrities in this field, the legendary Tom Torero, the stoic Jon Matrix and the crazy Dave Diggler were all going to take part.  It was now, or never. There was just one catch – the BBC was planning on making a documentary on the subject, hence the lower price tag. I went ahead anyway, and arrived to London very excitedly. To say that the bootcamp was an unmitigated disaster for me personally is a slight understatement. Just to put it into perspective, I essentially became the BBC’s half hour punchline. It’s likely of the most embarrassing things I’ve done in my life, or probably will ever do, in hindsight.

During the whole weekend, I got a single phone number, which proved to be a dud, and that was my first and only success for many weeks to come. Fact was that I was a high-pitched, rambling, jittery, uncalibrated and nervous wreck. Throughout my life, I’d always harboured illusions of being a confident guy who could do what he wanted, when he wanted. I was a far cry from the relaxed, interesting man with a booming voice that I had the potential to be. Hell, my delusions of grandeur were so insane that I thought I’d be one of the star students who got invited at the end of the bootcamp for an interview to be put in their former podcast. On that particular weekend, reality hit me like a speeding 15-tonne trailer with the driver asleep on the wheel.

To say that I was devastated at the whole state of affairs is again, a gross mishandling of the facts. I was crushed, but I’d seen with my own eyes that this approach worked, by looking at the instructors ply the craft. The problem was clearly in me, and nobody else was to blame. It stood to reason that with enough dedication I’d be able to wrench this demon out of me. I had a few weeks of free time ahead of me, so I decided to focus my time and energy to do this. Everything, and I do mean everything, in my approach required some degree of work.

Firstly, there was the stop. Nobody was stopping, despite me being this imposing bearish figure. I simply didn’t command enough respect with my body language, and tone of voice, to stop people with authority. So I practised, and practised, each failure chipping away at my self-worth. There was one point, where I decided to abandon approaching girls altogether and simply focused on getting random passerby to stop and have a chat with me.

never try
This thought was at the back of my mind for weeks on end, yet I kept trying

It’s during this wallowing of self-pity and loathing, that I met a man at the hostel I was staying at. He was the type of person, who you knew for a fact had been around the world once, and again for good measure. For some reason, or another, I ended up talking with him about the battles with my inner demons, and he told me about his own. After a long conversation with him, on the theme of life and happiness, he offered out of the blue to teach me what he had to offer on the subject of women; as he told me he also approached attractive women on the street as well – only difference being that he did so successfully.

I remember reading a while back, an old Buddhist saying that said something along the lines of “to he who wants to learn, life will offer him a teacher” and it was there that I saw the power of those words. Over a few sessions we had together, he helped me correct certain deficiencies in the approach as I was doing it, and I continued practising on my own. Sadly, my winter break came to an end, and I had to return back to normalcy. Nevertheless, approaches would have to be shelved as the town I lived in simply didn’t have the population for me to do this whilst passing unnoticed, and in my uncalibrated, awkward state I’d rapidly gain fame as a creep.

No, I had to find a way to practice this lifestyle incognito, so as to not shit where I eat. I thus took up salsa classes to practice coming in contact with women and doing “micro-approaches”, as each dance only lasted a few minutes I could do ten approaches a night with impunity. This helped me immensely, not only did I develop very useful strategies for managing conversations, I fixed my tone of voice, which I had always kept at a very high pitch because I was nervous whilst socializing, I developed better body language, and learned I could be a lot stronger in handling women than I had previously imagined.

This new activity, coupled with my weekend trips to London that I had every month, started changing my overall success with women. I came from a place where at twenty years old, I had never had a date with a girl in my life. During this period, I ended up going out with the Greek girl that started all this, and it was a very good date where she was excited about the future between us; sadly I was weak-willed at the time and lost my chance to make a move – soon thereafter the lead grew cold and she found someone who was willing to pursue something serious with her.

At any rate, my progress happened stepwise, my average result went consistently up the more I did this. However, I never encountered the one resounding victory most people get after a while. Every result I got became repeatable, as I approached my “sets” in a very scientific manner. I typically knew exactly what made the change in result, or why I failed. It’s a much slower process than the usual advice, where people just suggest you “feel” the set. In other words, not only does it sound like advice you would hear on a Star Wars movie, but at the end of the day, you have no idea what you ended up doing by the very random nature of your approach – and thus you end up having a rollercoaster of sets, where one can be fantastic and the next one can be absolute shit. That being said, it took some time before I could guarantee little more than a number here, and a number there. Not only that, but if you disappear a month between interactions, you suffer from very high attrition rates, and girls often lose interest in seeing you again after so much time. Truth be told, I received almost nothing in return for all the nervousness, and effort I had put in – that is, until the Easter Holidays.

During that month that I had at my disposition, I decided to focus my body, mind and soul to mastering all this. Every day, I would trounce out and try my damndest for several hours. At first, I got numbers here, numbers there, but nothing of substance. That being said, something clicked amidst all this. I learned the subtle tricks and nuances to use in my speech and in my body language to create sexual tension. All of a sudden, I was getting instant dates, where you go have coffee with someone you met not ten minutes before, on an almost daily basis.

The one that comes, the most, to mind was my first ever instant date. I saw this beautiful, redheaded girl – the type of girl that makes your heart sink just by looking at her for too long. I approached her and made conversation with her. After a few minutes I realized that she was waiting for someone, her sister, and that she was a tourist in London. Every muscle in my body told me to flee, as this was clearly a lost cause, but I decided to see how it played it out. Shortly thereafter, her sister comes along and looks at me with a puzzled look. I then told her that she’d caught me red-handed, I was trying to flirt with her sister, but she wasn’t bad looking herself either. She smiled at that, and I wasn’t brushed aside immediately. At this stage, I really didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Should I leave?

Just as I decided to say my farewells, and wish them the best of luck on their last day in London, I noticed that they had no real plans. I took the initiative and asked both of them out for coffee. They gladly agreed, and over the next two hours I’d been compared to a romantic comedy as they thought I was charming and told me that this sort of thing never usually happens in real life, but they were very happy that it did happen just now.

A few months passed, where I went through the routine of going to London to practice for a weekend once a month, lost any leads I got in the process of the month, and started anew. Summer came, and I’d gotten an internship in Madrid. I decided to backpack for a while before, and I decided that I’d developed a certain affinity for Eastern Europeans, given that those sets usually went well. Somehow, the strong but playful personality I’d developed over those months, meshed well with them. Each nationality has its quirks, but by and large, more than they care to admit, Eastern Europeans have more in common than not. My first Daygame kiss had come from a Russian, so I sorta developed a special fondness for them.

BUDAPEST

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Budapest thus soon came as the logical answer. It’s been said before that Budapest is the Paris of the East; I’m inclined to agree if we add to it the adage of “if it were run by the Soviets”. Budapest is beautiful, thrilling, and elegant but it’s also run down, shady and the word “debauchery” comes to mind. If you have a vice, be it anything from coffee to hookers, Budapest can provide you to excess. I mean this with the utmost respect though, as it is a city I love. Previously, I’d only been there for a single day, five years prior, so I had in no way gotten a handle of the city. Its odd quirks still remained very much a mystery to me.

This happened to such an extent that when I arrived on my flight, only to be greeted by open fields and a landscape dotted by houses here and there, there was a part of me that panicked. “Was there another Budapest I wasn’t aware of, and was I there?” Regardless, I had to make way to the city centre and find the room I was renting, so I made my way through the rickety subway system and tried to make myself as understood as I possibly could.

My apartment proved to be way more than I’d bargained for, two bathrooms, a kitchen and a bedroom so large that it had two beds and ceilings so high that even whilst being as tall as I am, even were I to jump with my arms up, I wouldn’t come close to actually touching the ceiling. I felt like a king.

Exploring the city showed me its quirks. Everyone has heard the legends of the former Soviet Union (FSU) countries, where men are men, and with winters so cold that they freeze the girls’ hearts, and not even the flames of passion can thaw them out. At first, I was inclined to agree, for if one were to talk to a beautiful woman on the streets she would confidently and immediately send you packing. I soon realized that this was not the right way of looking at the matter. People are people, regardless of whether they’re on the moon or on the streets of Budapest, and as people we all have basic needs to be met. We all want comfort, we all want love, we all have a sense of belonging, and we all like sex – we just have a different way of showing it depending on where we’re from.

I don’t know what it is, and I’m not even going to be stupid enough to try to guess, but women in Eastern Europe are wary to open up to people, before even kindness happens they have to test your mettle. So if a girl from a FSU girl is standing before you, waiting to hear what you have to say, she is genuinely interested. She might not show it to you with a smile until you’ve proven your worth, but she’s rooting for your success every step of the way. Otherwise, she’ll nonchalantly tell you to fuck off.

I have good memories of my experiences here. The museums, the contraposition of the old city with the new, meeting new friends and realizing that in matters concerning sex there is always more stirring inside each of us than just what one can see on the surface. If you’re ever around, I would highly recommend trying the local cuisine and the bathhouses. I have flashes of my last day and a half there and I can’t help but feeling happy.

Meeting up for coffee with a beautiful, intelligent and very fun girl, talking the night away, swinging her in front of me with a salsa move and having the most passionate kiss I had ever had, going to my apartment and both of us emerging eight hours later with a big smile on our faces. Long time readers, might remember the aftermath of this whole affair. To this day, I fondly remember our time with each other, and the times that followed that time.

Afterwards, I had a brief nap, had a meal fit for a king, went to the world renowned bath houses and, for want of a better pun, just let it all soak in. To top it all off, I had dinner with my new friend and fellow daygamer and had another meal fit for a king. That was my introduction to the lifestyle, and life hasn’t been the same since those first six months. Two years in, and I’m the happiest that I’ve ever been in my life. Funny to think that none of this would’ve happened had I just decided to just shut myself  in my room as I’d always done. There’s been blood, toil, sweat and tears spilled over this, but I came out stronger as a result. I am who I am now, because of the initial bad times, and I wouldn’t change that.

The best way to have things remain as they are, is to keep doing what you’ve always done. It’s up to you to decide whether you like the current state of affairs.

____________________

Have you changed your life for the better? What did you do to change it?

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3 thoughts on “How to go from shy to smooth – a personal story

  1. Pingback: Awards Post: Well, Aren’t We Just a Snuggly Ball of Sunshine? (Wait, Don’t Actually Try to Snuggle a Ball of Literal Sunshine) | The Lonely Tribalist

  2. Pingback: How to buy an Elephant and overcome Social Anxiety – Tantalus Reborn

  3. Pingback: Why I approach Women on the Street – Tantalus Reborn

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