Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Man is a creature who gets used to everything. Dostoyevski
wrote that, and right now you've gotten used to the
worst lie of all, that your life exists to upgrade
hers while destroying yours. You know exactly what I'm talking about,
because you've lived it. You've poured your money, your energy,
your years, your mind, your future into building a throne
(00:23):
for her, while you sat on the cold floor beneath it.
You called it love, you called it loyalty, you called
it being a real man. But let me ask you,
who's building your life while you're building hers. Who's rescuing
you while you're busy rescuing her from a life she
should have built on her own. You gave her everything,
(00:45):
and what did you keep for yourself? Nothing? You see,
Dostoyevsky didn't just write about guilt and suffering. He wrote
about the weakness of men who throw away their souls
for people who don't even ask them to. Man only
like to count his troubles. He doesn't calculate his happiness.
And you, my friend, you've been counting the wrong things
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all along. You believed you were building a future, but
you were building a prison. Brick by brick, funded by
your own blindness, mortgaged by your own time, locked shut
by your own cowardice. You thought, if you gave more,
she would stay. You thought if you sacrificed more, she
would love you more. You thought, if you made her
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life easier, somehow you'd finally feel like a man. But
you don't feel like a man, do you. You feel used,
You feel unseen. You feel like you sold yourself cheap,
and the worst part, you did it willingly. Dostoyevsky warned
about this. Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than
(01:51):
lying to others. And that's what you've been doing, lying
to yourself, telling yourself this is what love looks like,
telling yourself that neglecting your future is noble, telling yourself
that if you just keep giving, you'll finally madder. But
real men don't give everything away to prove their worth.
Real men build themselves first, so they never have to
(02:11):
beg to be valued. You've been funding a life you
don't even belong in any more, and you know it.
You feel it, that gnawing bitterness eating at your spirit,
whispering to you in the quiet. You trade it yourself
for nothing. You were born with a life to build
not a life to donate, not a life to waste
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on decorating some one else's throne, not a life to
lose while trying to make her life easier. Dostoyevsky would
call it spiritual suicide, because that's what it is, slow, silent,
respectable suicide. You want to know why you feel empty,
because you've upgraded her life while letting yours rot. And
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unless you stop now, unless you turn around, unless you
face the brutal truth you've been avoiding, you will die
as the man who made everyone comfortable except himself. Because this,
this right here, is the story of most men's lives,
but it doesn't have to be yours. And don't you
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dare tell yourself you're doing it for love, because if
you were honest, you'd admit your doing it for approval,
for the pathetic little reward of not being left alone.
Dostoyevsky saw this game in every man. The man who
performs like a fool, building a kingdom where he holds
no crown, laying bricks for a palace he will never own,
begging for validation he should have earned from himself long
(03:37):
before she ever arrived. The man who lies to himself
loses all respect for himself. And when he has no respect,
he can no longer love. That's what Dostoevsky warned, and
that is you, because what you're doing is not love,
its servitude disguised as romance. It's slavery soul to you
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as masculinity, and you already know how it ends. You
upgrade her lifestyle, you upgrade her comfort, you upgrade her opportunities,
and one day she leaves. She leaves not because she's evil,
but because deep down she knows. You were never building
for yourself. You were building to impress her. You were
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building to be needed. And the moment she stops needing you,
she stops respecting you. You think I'm lying, Look around,
look at the millions of men who gave everything and
ended up with nothing but memories they paid for alone.
Dostoyevsky understood the sickness of a man who needs to
be needed, the underground man, that pitiful character who justified
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his weakness as depth, who turned his bitterness into a religion,
who couldn't bear to build his own life, so he
lived off the shadow of someone else's. And you, you
are dangerously close to becoming him. You've traded ambition for convenience.
You've traded mission for romance. You've traded your entire future
for a seat at a table you don't even own.
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And you wonder why you wake up bitter. You wonder
why you feel like a fraud. You wonder why you
secretly resent the very life you claim you built out
of love, because you didn't build it for love. You
built it because you were afraid, afraid to stand on
your own, afraid to face the silence, afraid to be
a man whose life does an orbit around being someone
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else's emotional provider. Let me tell you what Dostoyevsky already knew.
No woman will ever respect the man who erases himself
to make her comfortable. No woman will ever stay with
a man who sacrifices his purpose just to fund her lifestyle.
No woman will ever follow a man who forgot to
lead himself first. And here's the worst part. You already
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knew this, You've known it for a long time, but
you couldn't bear to admit it, because if you did,
you'd have to face the guilt of what you've already
thrown away. But here's your warning. If you keep living
like this, if you keep trading your life away, one
upgrade at a time, you will wake up in a
future you built for her and realize you no longer
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exist in it. You'll be nothing more than the ghost
of the man you could have been. And yet you
still cling to the lie that you're doing the right thing.
You wear your self sacrifice like it's a badge of honor.
You brag about how much you've given, how much you've endured,
how much you've suffered. But Dostoyevsky saw right through men
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like you, men who love to tell themselves their noble
when in reality they're just cowards hiding behind the illusion
of duty. He once wrote, suffering is part of the
vast love of the universe, but meaningless suffering, self inflicted suffering.
This is madness, and madness is what you've chosen. You're
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not suffering like a man. You're suffering like a slave.
You're suffering like a man who threw away his mission,
his vision, his life, just to keep her from leaving.
And the worst part, she can't even respect you for it,
because she sees what you refuse to admit that you're
not doing it from strength, you're doing it from fear.
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The fear of being alone, the fear of being unloved,
the fear of building something for yourself and realizing you
are the only one responsible if it fails. So you
shift that burden onto her. You make her the center.
You make her success your life's mission. You make her
dreams your justification for breathing. And when she no longer
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needs you, you'll tell yourself you were used, when in reality,
you volunteered to be forgotten. Dostoevsky would call it spiritual humiliation,
the slow death of a man who never had the
courage to build his own kingdom, so he rented space
in someone else's. And you tell yourself you're different, but
you're not. You're just like the rest, just another man
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who thinks sacrifice makes him noble, when sacrifice without self
respect makes him nothing. You've forgotten the first rule of
being a man. You are responsible for your own survival,
not hers, not theirs, yours. Because if you don't build yourself,
if you don't lead yourself, if you don't fight for yourself,
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you'll wake up one day begging for the very life
you could have built all along. And make no mistake,
she will leave, not because she's ungrateful, but because deep
down she never wanted to carry the weight you refused
to carry yourself. You made her your purpose. You made
her your mission, You made her your identity. And now
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you wonder why she lost interest, why she grew cold,
why she looks at you and no longer sees the
man she once believed in, Because you stopped being a
man when you stopped living for yourself, and she saw
it long before you were brave enough to admit it.
So here's your choice. Keep sacrificing yourself to upgrade her
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life while yours falls apart, or wake up, reclaim your time,
rebuild your mission, and stop living as a man who
lives for some one else's validation. Because Dostoyevsky warned you
long before I did, you don't lose your life in
a moment. You lose it inch by inch, choice by choice,
excuse by excuse, until there's nothing left but the man
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who gave it all away for nothing. And now here
you are standing in the rubble of a life you
thought was built on love but was really built on fear.
And you still don't know who you are without her.
That is the real tragedy, because you could have built
a fortress. You could have built a legacy. You could
have built yourself into the kind of man that no
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woman could ever outgrow. But you didn't. You built her dream,
You upgraded her comfort, You made her life easier while
yours became smaller, quieter, emptier. And here's the part you
don't want to hear. She doesn't owe you anything, not loyalty,
not gratitude, not love, not even a thank you for
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all the years you sacrificed. Because you didn't do it
for her. You did it for yourself, for the weak approval,
starved version of you who thought being needed was the
same thing as being valuable. Dostoyevsky warned you about this.
He wrote, to love is to suffer, and to suffer
is to love. But you skipped the part he didn't
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say out loud, that suffering without boundaries isn't love, it's
self betrayal. You were never supposed to sacrifice your entire existence.
You were never supposed to erase yourself to make some
one else feel secure. You were never supposed to trade
your mission for their comfort. You were supposed to build
something bigger than both of you, something they could trust
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you to lead, something they could respect you for creating
something that outlived their presence, But you didn't. You built
a temp for someone else, lit the candles, swept the floors,
and then stood outside waiting for someone to invite you
back in. Look at your life. Look at the energy
you've poured into making her dreams real. Look at the
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sacrifices you've made, the opportunities you passed up, the years
you wasted trying to make her stay. Now, tell me
what did you build for you? Where is your foundation?
Where is your mission? Where is your life? You don't know,
do you? Because you never made yourself the project. You
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never made yourself the priority. You never made yourself the
man she could respect without needing to save you. And
now you're alone, not because she's gone, but because you
were never really there to begin with. You were too
busy building her life while yours slowly disappeared. So here's
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the final warning. If you don't stop this cycle now,
if you don't reclaim your mind, if you don't rebuild
your life from the ashes of what you wasted, you
will live the rest of your days as the man
who spent his life upgrading someone else's world while his
own burned. Quietly in the background. And that is how
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most men die, empty, forgotten, unbuilt. But that doesn't have
to be you, not if you turn around now. But
let me tell you something. Dostoevsky knew. The darker the night,
the brighter the stars, And right now you're in the night.
You've lost years, you've lost yourself, you've lost the respect
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you once thought you had. But you haven't lost everything.
Not yet. You're still breathing, you're still listening. You still
have one thing left, the power to stop lying to yourself.
Dostoevsky wrote about the man who collapses under the weight
of his own lies, who can't bear to face the
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truth of who he's become. But he also wrote about
the man who, finally, after all the destruction, chooses to
stand up again. And that man could still be you.
But first, you have to let go of the lie
that your life is worth less than hers. You have
to kill the belief that your only value comes from
being needed. You have to stop playing the martyr, stop
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playing the provider with no purpose, Stop playing the fool
who gives the world away just to avoid being alone.
You were not born to be someone's emotional crutch. You
were not born to be her retirement plan. You were
not born to sponsor someone else's comfort while you drown
in quiet regret. You were born to build, to lead,
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to suffer for something that belongs to you, to sacrifice
for a vision that lives beyond her approval. To live
without hope is to cease to live. Dostoevsky wrote that too.
And you've lived without hope long enough. It's time to rebuild.
It's time to face the brutal silence you've been avoiding.
It's time to stop pretending that your life has no weight,
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no mission, no worth outside of making someone else is easier.
It's time to walk away, not from love, not from women,
not from people, but from the version of you that
made them your only reason for living. Because the world
doesn't need another man who lives for approval. The world
needs men who build from the inside out, men who
choose their mission over comfort, men who choose meaning over validation,
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men who choose responsibility over applause. And here's the cold truth.
You don't need her life to get better. You need
your life to stop getting worse. So stand up, not
for her, not for them, for you, Because when you
rebuild yourself, when you rise from the ashes of your
wasted years, when you stop trying to buy love with sacrifice,
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you won't need to beg for anyone to stay. They'll
follow you, because this time you'll actually be leading. But
don't think for a second that rebuilding will be easy.
Dostoyevsky made it clear nothing meaningful, ever is. He wrote,
the mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive,
but in finding something to live for. And that's what
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you've been running from. Not the pain, not the sacrifice,
not the cost. You've been running from the emptiness you
feel when you realize you've never defined your own purpose.
Because it's easier to make someone else the mission. It's
easier to make someone else's happiness your job. It's easier
to disappear into someone else's life than to build one
of your own. You've mastered the art of giving without building,
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sacrificing without standing, providing without leading. And now that it's over,
now that she's gone, now that you're left with nothing
but yourself, you finally realize you've never built anything that
belongs to you. But here's the hidden gift in all
of this. She's gone, and now you have no one
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left to hide behind, no one left to blame, no
one left to distract you, no one left to carry
the burden you refuse to shoulder for yourself. And this
is where the real work begins. It begins when you
stop apologizing for choosing yourself. It begins when you stop
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outsourcing your manhood to someone else's comfort. It begins when
you take responsibility for the life you've been afraid to build.
Because the man you were before, the man who upgraded
her life while his own crumbled, he is dead now.
And the man you must become he isn't born out
of comfort. He isn't born out of validation. He isn't
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born out of sacrifice for others while starving himself. He
is born the moment you choose to suffer for something
that belongs to you. You think she's what you lost.
Number You lost yourself, you lost your time, you lost
your strength, you lost your dignity, you lost your mission,
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and you've been standing in the ruins ever since, blaming
her for walking away, when it was you who abandoned
yourself first. Dostoevsky's greatest warning isn't about women. It's about
men who lose their souls by living for anything other
than the truth. And here's the truth. No one is
coming to save you, No one is coming to build you,
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no one is coming to hand you back the years
you wasted. You're either going to rise now or you're
going to rot forever in the memory of the man
you refused to become. The choice is yours, and the
clock is already ticking. And now you're standing face to
face with the truth. You've been running from your whole life.
You've spent your best years trying to buy love with sacrifice.
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You've spent your strength trying to prove you're enough by
giving everything away. You've upgraded her life, her dreams, her comfort,
and called it manhood. But let me tell you something
that no one dared to tell you before. Validation is
not love. Validation is a drug, a sedative for men
who are terrified of living without some one else's approval.
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And every time you bend, every time you chase, every
time you give up more of yourself just to keep
her smiling, you feed the addiction that's quietly killing you.
You don't need another woman to tell you that you
are enough. You need to become enough for yourself. So
here's what you do, and don't just listen. Do it first,
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kill the savior complex. Stop trying to fix women, stop
trying to rescue them, Stop making their happiness your life's purpose.
You are not God, You are not their father, You
are not their life raft. You are a man, a
man with a mission far bigger than making her happy.
And here's the brutal truth. A woman doesn't want a
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man who lives for her validation. She wants a man
who lives for his mission, who builds something so powerful,
so rooted in purpose, that she has to fight to
be part of it. Second, rebuild your mission. What is
your life's work? What have you neglected? What dream have
you pushed aside to play the provider? It's time to
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dust it off. It's time to suffer for something that
belongs to you. Your body, rebuild it, your business, rebuild it,
your mind, rebuild it, your discipline, rebuild it, your name.
Rebuild it because the world doesn't need another man who
gave everything away. The world needs a man so committed
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to his mission that validation from women feels small compared
to the mountain he's climbing. Third, confront the empty man inside,
sit alone in silence, no phone, no distractions, no scrolling,
just you and the man you've been running from. Write
down every excuse you've used to waste your life, Face
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them one by one, because until you confront that emptiness,
you will always run back to women to fill it,
and no woman on earth can fill the void you
refuse to face. Fourth, earn your own respect. First. Start
doing hard things for you, not for her, not for applause,
not for pity, not for validation. Wake up early, hit
(20:20):
the gym, build your craft, keep your word, make promises
to yourself, and keep them. Because a man who respects
himself never needs to beg for respect from anyone else,
not from women, not from friends, not from the world. Fifth,
redefine what you want from women. Stop seeking comfort, stop
seeking approval, stop seeking to be needed. Seek a partner
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who stands beside the man you already built on your own.
Seek a woman who respects your mission, not one who
becomes your mission. Because when you build yourself first, you'll
stop attracting women who want to use you and start
attracting women who want to follow you. And Lastly, guard
your energy like your life depends on it, because it does.
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Stop pouring yourself out for people who would leave you empty.
Stop investing your soul into relationships that only take, but
never build with you. And here's your final action. Make
to day the day you stop hiding behind excuses. Make
to day the day you stop living for validation. Make
to day the day you rebuild your life brick by brick,
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choice by choice, fight by fight, because no woman, no friend,
no family member can give you the respect you refuse
to earn for yourself