Beta Male Memories #1

I was three or four years old. I was out with my mother at a large social gathering during the summer. People played softball, horseshoes, and grilled out. Every person who approached my mother was a potential child abductor in my eyes. I’d grab my mother’s leg and hide my eyes from the person talking to my mother and me. “Oh, he’s just shy,” my mother would say.

Looking back, F that excuse. She gave me a social crutch to stand on and I did. Deep down I knew I should try to talk to people, but once I got my get-out-of-jail-free shy card, I ran with it. Wish my dad was there to tell me, “Son, I don’t care how scared you are. You be a big boy, crush your fears, and look people in the eyes and talk to them, OK son?” That shit would have put me on a path to being much less shy, much quicker. And it’s a pity too, because later in life I had to do public speaking for a job and I ended up being good at that shite!

Fathers, don’t ever give your children the shy excuse, and if your wife is doing it, have the balls to call her out for doing it (if you still have balls). Consider it the same as your child shitting their pants and you telling them it’s okay to continue shitting their pants. Correct this beta shit today.

I’m looking back into my life for all the beta memories I can recall and posting them here.


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