In Oklahoma a few weeks ago, there was an incident that, once again, revealed to the world the dangers of the "Involuntary Celibate" movement, or "Incels", a loose collection of young men who, upset over not having a girlfriend and not losing their virginity, turn their rage onto women and sexually-active men.
In this case, a 14-year-old student at Luther High School in Oklahoma County, Oklahoma, stabbed a 16-year-old girl at least 11 times in the arms, back, head, and wrist with a folding knife. She survived the attack and the assailant was arrested.
The attack was not random. Reports have indicated that the boy, who has not been named, had asked his female victim out on dates. The girl had declined his offer and told him she wanted to remain "just friends". Among Incels, this type of rejection is commonly referred to as being put in the dreaded "friendzone".
So it appears, once again, that a young girl has become the victim of an angry young man upset over his lack of success with women. This is not a new phenomenon, but it is a dangerous one and it is one that needs to be addressed.
I have written about Incels before on this blog, when I discussed the case of Steven Roy Harper, an Incel who poisoned his former girlfriend's lemonade, killing her husband and nephew and sickening her in-laws and daughter, but I have never addressed my own experience with Incels. I thought that I would take the time to do that today.
Now, it would be easy for me to dismiss Incels as losers or immature trolls, but I won't, because I understand the pain that they are experiencing, and, because, I used to be an Incel.
I first began to see young couples when I entered middle school at the age of 12. At first, I didn't think much of it, as they weren't that common a sight.
However, as I entered seventh and eighth grade, I began seeing boys and girls holding hands in the hallways more and more often. My friends began dating girls and going to dances, but I remained alone. I was a slow developer socially, tending to get along better with the teachers than the other students, and so I never became really involved in any social circles in middle school.
Like most other boys my age, I also wanted to get a girlfriend and start a romantic relationship, but it never happened. At first I was confused. I thought that maybe I was being too impatient, that I needed to wait for a girl to ask me out. None did, however, and soon my confusion turned to annoyance. I would roll my eyes whenever I saw couples in the hallway. I would stop eating in the cafeteria because of all the couples there.
Then, when I was about 13 or 14, my attitude took a much darker turn. No girls had come to ask me out, and I saw boys my age freely courting with other girls.
I didn't understand what I was doing wrong. I didn't stop to think that maybe the reason no girls had approached me was because I hadn't done anything to make myself presentable or worthy.
In the midst of this ignorance, fueled by jealousy and envy, my attitude towards girls became condescending and smug. I thought of them as lesser beings, incapable of rational thinking, obsessed and moody, and overly sensitive.
It was at this time that I entered the dark world of the Incel Movement. It was a life of hatred, anger, misogyny, and obsessive, uncontrollable rage towards girls and couples.
My attitude towards couples became full-on hatred. I didn't just hate couples; I DESPISED them. Never in my 14 years of life at the time had I hated anything with the same visceral rage and contempt that I did towards couples.
Pent up with rage, jealousy, and repression, I began to take my anger out on any couples I saw.
If I saw couples walking in the hallway, I would snarl "Fuck you!" to them and give them the middle finger behind their back. If I saw them holding hands, I would walk in-between them and stride forward, forcing them to let go of each other. If I saw them kissing, I would sometimes whack them with a rolled up piece of paper, yell at them, and chastise them for "indecency", and if I saw them hugging by lockers as I walked by I would slam into them by "accident" and give them a sarcastic "Sorry 'bout that".
This went on for a while, and, all the while, I remained alone with my anguish. I was slowly destroying my life. Although I thought I was hurting couples through my actions, I was actually hurting myself most of all. I was descending into a very dangerous and unhealthy lifestyle, one that was slowly eating away at me from the inside. I contemplated suicide numerous times and questioned numerous times whether it was worth it to keep on living.
And, in the midst of my anger, my pain, and my suffering, I always blamed the rest of the world for my misfortune.
But all of that would take a turn in May, 2014.
On the morning of May 24, 2014, I picked up the morning copy of the Schenectady Gazette and I read the top story. It was a tale of terror. The previous night, in Isla Vista, California, a young man named Elliot Rodger had gone on a killing spree, shooting and stabbing six people to death and wounding dozens of others before committing suicide. Rodger left behind a long, arduous manifesto in which he vented his rage against society and humanity and expressed his frustrations for not having a girlfriend.
As I read about Elliot Rodger, an internal horror began to unfold. The similarities between me and him were uncanny. Like me, Rodger had Asperger's Syndrome, which had severely hindered his ability to interact socially with others. Like me, Rodger was a prolific writer who had a well-off family. Like me, Rodger was a young man who harbored a festering hatred of young couples, and, like me, Rodger blamed the rest of the world for his lack of success with women.
I still remember looking into the picture of Rodger. I can still see that dark-haired, smiling young man staring back at me. I can remember the fear I had looking at him and looking at the pictures of the young men and women he murdered. I was terrified, absolutely terrified. I felt like I was looking at myself. It was like I was seeing my own future. I felt like this would be my life if I continued down the path I was going.
Questions went through my head. Was this really the life I wanted to lead? Was this really the path I wanted to go down? Was this really the future I wanted to create and was this really the legacy I wanted to leave?
It was at that moment that I realized I had to change. This could not be my future. I couldn't let this sort of thing happen to me, or to anyone else. I had to abandon this unhealthy lifestyle before it was too late. I realized that no good would ever come out of holding angry grudges and harboring festering hatreds against couples and girls.
However, like all bad habits, breaking this one was not easy. After so many months of being consumed by hatred and jealousy, it was hard for me not to get angry when I would see couples in the hallway. I still hated them, as much as I didn't want to. I was still angry and lonely, and I had to find another way to vent that rage that didn't harm anyone else.
So I tried a new tactic. Instead of lurking in the background, I tried to become friendly with the other kids in my grade. I tried to be cordial and I put myself out more often. I went to school dances instead of sulking at home. I went to parties instead of hiding in my room.
It was painful, but, soon, I began to change. My hatred towards couples softened. I learned to tolerate them, to put up with them, and not to lash out in anger at them. Gradually, over a period of several years, I left the dark world of the Incel movement and returned to the real world. I recognized that I couldn't be handed a girlfriend on a silver platter. Like everything else, I would have to work for it.
Still, it would take over three years for my festering hatred of couples to die away. Hatred is something that is very easy to acquire but extremely difficult to get rid of. Like a narcotic, it pulls you in, provides you temporary relief from your perceived problems, and makes you feel superior. But, like a narcotic, it is also extremely harmful to everyone, including the user.
Today, more than four years later, I no longer consider myself an Incel. I am still celibate, yes, and I still don't have and have never had a girlfriend, but, as painful and frustrating as that may be, I have learned to live with that.
While seeing couples still, to an extent, bothers me, I no longer lash out with anger at them. I no longer harbor a hatred of them, nor do I blame them for my supposed lack of success with women.
Whatever my problems may be, I realize that nothing can be done to fix them if I take my anger out on other people who have nothing to do with my current situation. This is a problem I got myself into, and it is a problem I should fix.
So, to all Incels who may be reading this, I have this to say:
It will get better. Like everything in this world, if you want something you have to work for it. Do something to make yourself presentable. Try comedy, or writing. If you like sports, join an athletics team. Do something to put yourself out there. Do something to make yourself worthy of a girlfriend.
I understand your pain. I have felt your pain, (and, to an extent, still do), but taking your rage out against the rest of the world will not ease your pain or fix your problems. That benefits no one and it hurts not just innocent people, but, most of all, it hurts you.
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