No one identifies, but my mom is pretty much the poster-child for the second-wave feminist; mid fifties, make-work office job with important sounding title, separated from my father when she was in her late 40's to briefly shack up with an alpha (who at the time I knew for a certainty had others in rotation and BIG SURPRISE! He did!), thinks that because she's a woman she deserves everything and anything that she wants and now miserable, jacked up on Zoloft and Eulift or whatever it's called and despite having zero prospects, she still has a 468-point list. She'll die alone, and I won't say that she deserves it, but seeing her personality and how she interacts with and treats people I understand why.
My dad just floats on in happy, peaceful, sliding-headfirst-into-Alzheimer's bliss. I love the man, but he's beta and still wants to get back together with my mom for some idiotic reason.
My sister, I'd even say that she's red pill. She's married with a young boy, and easily my favorite family member. She keeps in shape, dresses well, knows how to cook and lets her husband do the shit he loves to do (golf, hunting, fishing, football on Sundays) without making him feel like a piece of shit about it, and even in the past, when she'd see things or hear things about her friends or whatever, she never handed out the pussy pass and instantly sympathized just because the girl had a vagina; she holds women to standards like men get held to. If I ever have to disappear for a prolonged period of time, her and my one uncle are the only ones I'd tell (my mother would rat to the authorities, and everyone else would rat me out to her).
My dad just floats on in happy, peaceful, sliding-headfirst-into-Alzheimer's bliss. I love the man, but he's beta and still wants to get back together with my mom for some idiotic reason.
My sister, I'd even say that she's red pill. She's married with a young boy, and easily my favorite family member. She keeps in shape, dresses well, knows how to cook and lets her husband do the shit he loves to do (golf, hunting, fishing, football on Sundays) without making him feel like a piece of shit about it, and even in the past, when she'd see things or hear things about her friends or whatever, she never handed out the pussy pass and instantly sympathized just because the girl had a vagina; she holds women to standards like men get held to. If I ever have to disappear for a prolonged period of time, her and my one uncle are the only ones I'd tell (my mother would rat to the authorities, and everyone else would rat me out to her).