Today I am going to tell you how I was able to overcome my anxiety and my fear of meeting and talking to beautiful women. But first of all, I must warn you: this article is not going to make you a gift Don Juan or an outstanding seducer. Why?
Because Mozart didn't become the best in the world by reading a score. He has become so, of course, by having a monstrous innate talent ... But above all by practicing his passion on a daily basis, and with much more obsession than anyone.
The moment the desire begins to be born ...
Coming out of adolescence and entering the adult world, I began to experience the temptation of girls on a daily basis ... And I cannot describe what a pleasure it is to meet Blois escorts today...
From high school, which is a closed world that you can quickly walk around, with 5-10 "beautiful" girls who will quickly find a friend for the rest of the year, I went to college and to the world of work ... Or pretty girls are no longer rare, but all around us. From the first day, I did not know where to turn: I was so excited! So many beautiful, interesting-looking women in college… like me. Even in my student job, there was plenty to do… It's simple: I didn't know where to turn.
Are women inaccessible to most of us?
I was telling my friends about it, and the opinion was unanimous: Yes, college and the adult world are crammed with pretty women. But they are inaccessible to us. The prettiest are taken or will be taken only by the top 1% of men. Fashion prints, Mr. Muscle and Daddy's boys only could have these beautiful women. We, the ordinary students, could only admire from afar these pretty women in summer outfits, with their designer bags, their light makeup, and their luxury perfumes floating all around them. One day, I was at a terrace in a town in the south of France with a fellow student. And suddenly, he opens Tinder, and he says to me: “here you see her, she is from our class! We met yesterday, and tonight I see her… ”Shocked, I ask her where they are going to meet. And there
I couldn't believe it… Was it that simple? How was that possible? I asked him how he was doing… And he told me that he didn't know, that it was simple, and that I just had to be myself. But I was puzzled, I asked him if there was “something”. He replied, “Come with me in the evening, you'll see”. I refused instantly, claiming an emergency for the fateful evening ... But come to think of it, I said to myself why not. Despite all my fears and anguish, if I was with him, it could go well: he was reassuring, and if he told me it was simple, then I believed him. That's how I started to get into the student nightlife.
You no longer know where to turn
Evenings, drinking parties, skipping lessons… and above all: girls. Lots of girls. it seemed like the fastest way to overcome my fears and learn from those with experience. This evening, I would not recount it here. But what is certain is that: yes, Mr. Muscle and charismatic men have had women. But not necessarily the most beautiful, nor the most interesting. Looking closely at the behavior of my colleague and his friends, I could notice several things: they were all very smiling, or at least they seemed relaxed as if the music was too much. strong, alcohol rising to their heads, and the compact crowd did not reach them. Then they would talk as a group. From group to group. And even, when my colleague had someone in his mind, he even went to his friend next door. We must not forget that the meetings are very often in a circle: it is not only you and the one that interests you.
It's possible to flirt ... for everyone
And yes, it was possible for anyone to have contact with a pretty girl, and even have her number see more. I myself had managed to dance and then talk a little with a girl who gently made fun of my way of dancing… Stop. I want to clarify something: at the time, this kind of remark would have cut me short in my tracks. I would have liked to hide in a hole and never come out again. But now ... Everyone was smiling, even this girl who entered me with a single sentence. And I didn't feel any animosity… and I was (slightly) alcoholic, therefore disenfranchised. Without paying too much attention, I continued to speak, chaining the conversation in a fluid and relaxed manner. I bounced off his remarks, I made jokes… We laughed together. Exactly like a conversation or a moment shared with friends. Except that here is: I was not sufficiently aware of these facts and gestures. She must have sent me a dozen or so signals. Guess how many I spotted? Not one. I asked for her number only after she took the lead. His friends had come to interrupt us to whisper a word in his ear. She goes. My heart is racing: I was torn between my desire to get his number out of him so that we could see each other again, and my phobic fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, of asking and being seen as an oaf. Finally, she comes up to my ear to scream (and yes, we were in a dance bar): “you want my number?” I had only done half of the course, but I had touched on the goal. I was not sufficiently aware of these facts and gestures. She must have sent me a dozen or so signals. Guess how many I spotted? Not one. I asked for her number only after she took the lead. His friends had come to interrupt us to whisper a word in his ear. She goes. My heart is racing: I was torn between my desire to get his number out of him so that we could see each other again, and my phobic fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, of asking and being seen as an oaf. Finally, she comes up to my ear to scream (and yes, we were in a dance bar): “you want my number?” I had only done half of the course, but I had touched on the goal. I was not sufficiently aware of these facts and gestures. She must have sent me a dozen or so signals. Guess how many I spotted? Not one. I asked for her number only after she took the lead. His friends had come to interrupt us to whisper a word in his ear. She goes. My heart is racing: I was torn between my desire to get his number out of him so that we could see each other again, and my phobic fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, of asking and being seen as an oaf. Finally, she comes up to my ear to yell (and yes, we were in a dance bar): “you want my number?” I had only done half of the course, but I had touched on the goal. I asked for her number only after she took the lead. His friends had come to interrupt us to whisper a word in his ear. She goes. My heart is racing: I was torn between my desire to get his number out of him so that we could see each other again, and my phobic fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, of asking and being seen as an oaf. Finally, she comes up to my ear to scream (and yes, we were in a dance bar): “you want my number?” I had only done half of the course, but I had touched on the goal. I asked for her number only after she took the lead. His friends had come to interrupt us to whisper a word in his ear. She goes. My heart is racing: I was torn between my desire to get his number out of him so that we could see each other again, and my phobic fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, of asking and being seen as an oaf. Finally, she comes up to my ear to yell (and yes, we were in a dance bar): “you want my number?” I had only done half of the course, but I had touched on the goal. and my phobic fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, asking, and sounding like a bastard. Finally, she comes up to my ear to yell (and yes, we were in a dance bar): “you want my number?” I had only done half of the course, but I had touched on the goal. and my phobic fear of stepping out of my comfort zone, asking, and sounding like a bastard. Finally, she comes up to my ear to scream (and yes, we were in a dance bar): “you want my number?” I had only done half of the course, but I had touched on the goal.
Lesson?
It's that even being the most socially maladjusted, never going out, well you're interesting. With a little culture and conversation, and a well-groomed appearance, you can captivate and grab the attention of a pretty girl effortlessly… and you can let that happen naturally. Without being afraid to take the lead, to ask (his number for example)