You asked her if she wanted to grab coffee. Then you asked if the time worked. Then you asked if the place was okay. Then you asked if she'd prefer tea.
Four questions. Four chances for her to say no. Four signals that you're terrified of making a decision.
Plan it. Pick the place. Pick the time. Tell her where to meet you. She'll either show up or she won't.
Either way, you look like a man instead of a scared little boy.
You paid for dinner. You drove. You said "whatever you want is fine" every single time. All the effort, no expectations.
And she left anyway — probably for a guy who makes her pick up the pizza.
Painful. Also predictable. Her mind quietly concludes that anything requiring zero effort from her is worth exactly zero. You became a free sample, and free samples get taken for granted.
The 22 Rules flip the dynamic. Small shifts that get her investing effort, money, and time in you — until SHE'S the one afraid of losing YOU.
Attraction runs on a clock.
She flirted for weeks. Touched your arm. Found reasons to be alone with you. And you were careful. Respectful. Waiting for the right moment.
The moment had a shelf life. It expired around month two, and by the time you asked her out, she'd quietly filed you under "little brother."
One of the hardest lessons inside the 22 Rules: women rarely wait. Interest either grows or it decays, and nothing decays it faster than a man who never moves.
Make the move while she's still inventing reasons to be near you.
She calls you when her car breaks down. When she needs help moving. When some guy she's actually dating treats her badly.
You're the listener. The reliable one. The guy who would treat her so much better, if she'd just open her eyes.
She won't. You trained her to see you as the low-effort option — the friend who requires zero risk and zero investment. Every favor dug the hole deeper.
The "22 Rules" break the pattern. You'll stop auditioning for a role she already cast and become the man she chases instead. It starts with Rule 1.
Give me a 5'3" petite brunette with a round ass and a nice set of perkies and I'm in business!Boschy said:And to mention the obvious tip: just chase short chicks!
You are absolutely right! I have seen some that wouldn't considering dating me, I am 5ft6-7 depending on shoes. They mention it in their profiles, but remember that is a lot of wishful thinking on their part. I dated an ex Hooter's girl that was 5ft4 and her profile said that her man had to be at least 6ft tall, that didn't stop me from pulling her. She had an a$$ load of issues and was a drunk to boot. I nexted her and she went off and she tried to pull that height crap as a low blow with calling me shorty, but I was the one that put her to the curb and she most not have had this done too much.Mr.Positive said:You're 5'3 and have a speech impediment (from a previous post)?
Allright, it may seem that you have your challenges to overcome. Just remember, you can overcome them. You can achieve anything you want..if you put in the effort.
Don't make excuses, don't play the 'victim' card. Get out there and take action.
Women don't know what the hell they want. If a women says height matters, she will be the first to date someone who shorter than her because he's "oh..so different".
Who cares, go for what you want in life.
I could talk to any woman I wasn't attracted to. Charming, funny, relaxed. Then a gorgeous woman looked my way and I'd become a sweating, babbling mess.
The fix took me years to find and ten minutes to learn. Nervousness and excitement are the same physical state — pounding heart, adrenaline, flushed face. Your brain just picks the label. And you can pick a better one.
Rule 16 shows you how. You feel the nerves, relabel them as excitement, and let that energy pour out as enthusiasm. Women notice the guy radiating it. They always do.
I Am a Prince too, no kidding and I do okay myself. Prince got more trim on accident than any of us will every on purpose!!!Heart Break Kid said:Prince is 5'3. Did it stop him from going out and doing what he loves? Not at all, and look how famous he became.
That sentence contains at least five follow-up questions she WANTS you to ask. Where in Florida? What brought you here? How long have you been in the area? What do you miss? How does it compare to here?
She handed them to you on a silver platter. And you said, "Oh cool. I come here every week. I love this band. Ummm... pretty crowded tonight."
She smiled politely. Nodded. And never texted you back.
I was that guy for years. Talking too much. Listening too little. Panicking about my next sentence while she was literally feeding me the answers.
Then I found 22 rules that fixed the whole thing. Rule number one: shut up and listen. She'll tell you exactly what to say.