I knew a girl in Michigan who everyone around me loved and found super sexy and desirable.
She creeped me out. Something about her just seemed slimy, hollow, without any “there” there.
She creeped me out. Something about her just seemed slimy, hollow, without any “there” there.
One day we got stuck hanging out alone when other friends left for a bit.
I decided to be a little rude and just straight up ask her some version of “what’s your center? How did you become what you’re like?”
I decided to be a little rude and just straight up ask her some version of “what’s your center? How did you become what you’re like?”
She looked at me a minute, then told me that she’d read “The Art of Seduction” by Robert Greene when she was a teen, absorbed it, and never looked back. 
I went to the library and grabbed a copy, started paging through to figure out what she meant.
The whole book is about becoming a malleable pure surface, adopting mask after mask depending on the situation, to become desirable to whoever is around you.
The whole book is about becoming a malleable pure surface, adopting mask after mask depending on the situation, to become desirable to whoever is around you.
Over the next couple years, I watched her more or less dismantle that friend group, all while the people in that group kept thinking well of her, doing favors for her, trying to make themselves valuable to her.
This is apparently one of the super powers my family and evangelical trauma gave me. It’s hard for me to trust people, which is rough, but the flip side of that is I 100% know a snake when I meet one.
If your traumatized friends are just a lil edgy around someone, it’s probably fine.
But when they start sounding confident alarms on someone you think is perfectly wonderful—consider very carefully before ignoring them.
But when they start sounding confident alarms on someone you think is perfectly wonderful—consider very carefully before ignoring them.
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