Confessions of a beta male XVII: Proving oneself

Just feeling the need to prove oneself is a sign of beta male-dom. An alpha just figures he is whatever he is, and that's good enough.

When I see an online IQ test, I have an irrepressible urge to take it, to prove myself. If an alpha runs across such a test, he feels no such need; he'd rather spend time on his favorite porn site.

I'll push myself to the point of exhaustion in order to prove that I can do as many pull ups as I could five years ago. An alpha would regard that -- rightfully -- as silly.

If an alpha gets into a heated argument, it's because he's angry. When I do so, it's because I don't want to appear the guy who backs down.

For an alpha, a party is a place to have fun. For me, it's just one more place I have to put forth the effort to be witty, to make sure I'm friendly to everybody, to be on my best behavior and not offend anyone, and to pretend that I'm having a good time. (Why go?)

For an alpha, a meal is something to look forward to, something which tastes good. If one course tastes better than the others, he'll have more of that. For me, a meal is just one more test I must pass: I must make sure I balance my protein intake with the right amount of complex carbohydrates and sufficient fruits and/or vegetables. Eternal vigilance is the price of health.

An alpha will down an entire box of cookies with the only thought entering his head the one about how good they taste. I'd as soon eat a box of rat poison.

An alpha going to bed with a girl for the first time thinks: I can't wait to see that sweet little pussy. I'm filled with a vague dread, the fear that I might not perform.

An alpha gets his heart rate up before a swimming meet by doing laps in the warm up pool. Mine goes up just from thinking about my race.

An alpha gets together with a group of macho guys and is filled with exultation at their combined machismo. It's all he can do to keep from chanting, "We're number one! We're number one!" Whenever I'm with such a group, I worry they might think I'm a homo.

An alpha will die at age 63 of a heart attack, never having worried about getting one. I'll live till I'm 95, fretting about my health every step of the way.

For an alpha, life is a party. For this particular beta, it is a trial.