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The title alone made me roll my eyes. The cover looked like someone trying too hard. The premise sounded like every other "self-improvement for men" book I'd quit reading in 2019. I bought it to write a one-star review and prove a point to a friend who'd recommended it. By page 14 I'd stopped writing the review. By page 30 I was taking notes. By page 70 I'd canceled my plans for the weekend. I finished it on a Sunday night sitting on my couch in the dark. I didn't move for forty minutes after I closed it. Because for the first time in my adult life I understood what had been happening with every woman I'd ever wanted. What I was actually doing. Why none of the women I cared about ever stayed. Why the ones who did stay were the wrong ones. I bought five more copies the next morning. One for my brother. One for my best friend. One for the guy at work who keeps telling me he's "just not in a place for a relationship right now." One for the friend who's been engaged twice and bailed both times. One extra, because I knew I'd need it. I'm not the kind of person who recommends self-help books. I never have been. This one isn't a self-help book. That's the whole point. Flip The F*cking Switch.