After seeing some discussion over on the main site, and a recent post that followed in a similar vein, I thought I'd write a post on navigating blue pill beliefs after swallowing the pill.

Even after internalizing TRP, some blue pill beliefs are so embedded within the psyche that they refuse to be killed. You merely adapt them to fit your new understanding of the world.

So, you've been paying your penance in the temple of iron for some time. You've got a good haircut. You dress well. Your SMV is pretty decent.

You've spent some time studying the sacred texts of TRP. You have begun to imbibe their holy knowledge. You've even had some success putting them into practice out in the wild.

The IOIs are rolling in. The bitches are thirsty. The plate roster is slowly filling up.

You sit back in your arm chair while a young slut dutifully slurps her pussy juice off your balls. You think to yourself, damn... I've made it.

I have climbed the mountain from the pits of mediocrity, and have ascended to Chad.

But little do you know, some blue pill conditioning remains deeply embedded within your psyche: you think you're special.

My First Slutty Unicorn

When I first began to have some success with TRP, I plated a smoking hot 29 year old coworker. Or rather, she plated me.

She invited me to a party at her house. After spending some time having fun, socializing and flirting with this girl, people begin to leave.

She ushers everyone out of the house and just as I'm about to collect my things, she tells me "Oh, you don't have to leave. Grab yourself another drink".

I go to the kitchen and pour us both another drink. I turn around to find this girl stood in the doorway dressed in lingerie.

She walks upto me, grabs my head and begins kissing me. Needless to say, the lingerie didn't stay on for long.

For me, this was a milestone moment in my TRP journey.

Never had I had such an attractive woman persue me so aggressively. She later admitted that she only organized the party so she could fuck me.

My ego was through the fucking roof.

I Have Become Alpha

For the next few months my dutiful new plate fulfilled all of my sexual desires.

She would change her plans at the drop of a hat to accomodate my booty calls.

She would give me rides home from work and suck my dick in my driveway.

She would let me bust down her throat and writhe as she choked.

She would send me nudes and beg me to dominate her.

She would cook me dinner and breakfast in bed.

She would be bring me food and coffee at work.

She was a complete and total slut. But she was my slut. Or so I thought...

Assumption: The Mother Of All Fuck Ups

My ego and confidence was at stratospheric levels. Here I had a smoking hot slut ready and willing to please me in any way I saw fit.

While I will admit a small amount of oneitis did begin to set in, I was aware that she was just a plate. I knew she was sleeping with other dude, but I didn't care. I was sleeping with other women.

My mistake was that I assumed that I was special. I was the Chad that she gave the VIP treatment.

Those other dudes she was fucking? Those chumps were merely getting the breadcrumbs. The dregs. My sloppy seconds.

My assumption was wrong.

What She Gives To You, She Gives To Everyone

Over the next few weeks I found out that this girl had a bit of a reputation. Not only was she fucking me, but she was fucking another 3 guys from work.

As time went on I found more and more guys who were fucking, or had fucked her. Friends of friends, nightclub bouncers, bartenders, gym bros. The list went on and on.

But hey, she's just a plate. Who gives a fuck if she's the town bicycle. I certainly didn't.

As I discovered more about her sexual history, the same stories popped up again and again.

• "Oh yeah she sucked my dick in the parking lot"
• "She let me throat fuck her the first night I met her"
• "We fucked in the disabled toilet at work"
• "She'd let me rail her and she'd bake me brownies"

My entire perception was crushed. A slut I could deal with, I knew what I was getting myself into.

But I thought I was special.

I thought I was the only guy getting cookies and blowjobs in the parking lot. I thought I was the only guy throat fucking her on demand.

Turns out, I wasn't special. I was just some dude getting the same treatment as every other dude.

That hit me pretty hard.

It wasn't that I thought she was some special snowflake. It wasn't that she turned out to be the town bicycle. It was the fact that I thought I was special. I was unique. I got the VIP treatment.

The Purple Fantasy

I was holding on to a blue pill fantasy, with a red pill tinge.

I knew AWALT. I knew she was a slut. I knew her true nature - and none of that bothered me. I had internalized it, I had witnessed it, I had come to terms with it.

But I was holding onto the blue pill belief that a woman could view me as special. That a woman would love me.

I had merely adapted the blue pill belief to fit my new red pill framework.

If a woman cannot love me how I expect to be loved, and that is a delusion - then surely I can be the Chad who gets the special treatment.

Of course, that was just a fantasy. An illusion.

Whatever she gives to you, she gives to everyone else.

Sure, you might get better treatment than some other guys. But you aren't getting the best treatment. Nobody is.

You're not the first guy she's done that with. You won't be the last. You're not even the only guy she's doing that with right now.

You aren't that special.