Incel Rite of Passage: Your parents think you are gay

Unless your parents think you are gay, are you truly Incel yet?

Growing up as an Incel is a chastening time, and there are many Blackpilling milestones you will come across on the journey of confirming your Incel status and reinforcing the message that you are destined to be an ineligible bachelor for your whole life. The most potent one I’ve experienced was my mother thinking I was gay.

It was back in about 2005, I was 22 and having grown up and already missed such milestones as teenage sweethearts, going to the prom with your high school girlfriend (I, like many of you too I’m guessing, didn’t bother to go to my prom.), bringing a girlfriend home for the first time and introducing them to your parents/family, losing your virginity, first kiss, first date, holding hands even etc. Having spent my youth LDARing in my bedroom, whilst my older brother (who, unhelpfully for me, was a Chad) was partaking in the normal rites of passage for a teenager and going out with girls, taking them home (getting laid obviously) and then entered my adulthood and spending it wageslaving and LDARing in my bedroom, whilst my brother was moved out and in a LTR with a woman (he’s got 4 kids with 3 different women, 2 of the women were legit Stacies, but I’ll cover this in another blog post), my mother was obviously thinking there must be some reason why I was alone and had no social life or more importantly, girlfriend.

Never entering my Bluepilled boomer mothers thoughts was that it was because I was an ugly 5 foot 4 Manlet, and this was the reason I was a social outcast and invisible/repellent to women, for this would be to admit that her and my fathers genetics produced such an undesirable. Also this would shatter a worldview she held from growing up in the 1960’s/70’s when it was far more common for looksmatched couples to pair up and the man could compensate in some way for his unattractive physical traits by having a good job and offering stability. No, there must be some other more palatable reason that makes sense, rather than her son is an ugly, short loser. “He must be gay. Of course!! It all makes sense now.” Thus bringing me to the bizarre/unpleasant/cringe encounter that took place next.

Me circa 2005. Yes ladies, he’s single!

It started off with me getting home from work one day, and doing my usual routine of putting my 10 pack of cider in the fridge and pouring myself a large measure of vodka with a single ice cube and heading upstairs to my room. However this time I was interrupted by my mother, “Outherebrothers, come into the living room a minute. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Perturbed by this, I nonetheless ventured into the living room to be met with a fat, balding, bespectacled Manlet. “This is Charles, he’s just started working for the same company as me and I thought you two would get on. I’ll go get Charles a drink.”

Stunned by now being left alone with this chap, and being the socially awkward Incel that I was, I sat down on the sofa and turned the telly on and solely focused on that (my eyes were almost burning a hole in it) to blank this guy out. However he proceeded to come over and sit on the sofa next to me, and to my horror flat out made his intentions obvious by saying “Look, it’s okay. I was just like you, hiding from the world and scared to be who I am. But you know, once you make that first step a whole new, exciting world opens up for you, and I want to help you in any way I can. Being gay isn’t anything to be ashamed of, and it’s so much easier in the 21st century.”

At this point I kept composure but was able to coldly put it to him that I wasn’t a faggot, his type of people disgusted me, and that if he didn’t leave right now I’d stab him in the eye with the Parker pen that was in my pocket, and that I’d done it before (I had done it before at school with a compass, I’ll cover this in another blogpost). At which point he quickly got up and left my house through the front door, and my mum came back into the living room a couple of minutes later with Charles’s drink and inquired where he’d gone. I said he’d gotten a text message about a family emergency and had to leave. My mum, though perplexed, shrugged her shoulders and made a “Hmm?” noise and nothing more was said. I snatched the drink she had prepared for Charles and downed it in one, I needed it after this scarring experience, and went upstairs to LDAR as normal. Getting extra drunk that night.

Would I have actually stabbed him? Probably not, but he THOUGHT I would which was all that mattered lol.

Nothing was said about this for a few days until all of a sudden I came home from work one day and straight away my mother said “I wanna word with you!” so I went “What about?” knowing full rightly it would be about the Charles thing, and she said “How dare you threaten my friend Charles, what IS the matter with you?!” so we proceeded to have a full blown row where I said how dare SHE put me in that position without even so much as discussing it with me first, and that I was mortified that she could even think I was a faggot, and what on Earth inspired her to ever think this whole thing would be a good idea?!

She basically said she was at loss to understand why my brother was doing all the normal things young people do growing up and was now settled with a partner and child, whilst I had never had a single friend growing up and was spending my life working in an anti-social job (I was a Traffic Warden at the time, the picture of me is me in my uniform) and drinking myself into oblivion every night instead of out “finding a nice young lady” (IF ONLY?!?! LMFAO!! Fucking Bluepills, make me angry even thinking about this shit lol!) and that the thought occurred to her that the reason I wasn’t out meeting women and bringing them home, and instead killing myself with alcohol must be because I didn’t fancy women, and was gay. This would also explain my alcoholism, as this was apparently me “hating who I really was, and drinking to forget.”

Trying not to get lost in a sea of red mist fury at my mother (it was hard to hold back tbh) I simply put it to her that the reason I was a social outcast all through growing up until right now, was nothing to do with being a faggot and “drinking to hide from myself” (mothers should be banned from reading self-help books, for it makes them think they are two-bit psychologists. Seriously lol) and everything to do with the fact that I was incredibly ugly/unattractive. I had no friends growing up because I always looked much younger than my age (until 25, then it went into overdrive, I look like absolute HELL now. Much older than 37 tbh) so kids didn’t want me hanging around with them, add to the fact I was ugly and looked like the dwarf “Willow” from the movie of the same name (which was released when I was a kid) and was mercilessly bullied for this. Then now I’m in my 20’s I am simply too ugly to attract women, as well as being 5 foot 4. I told her there was no point dwelling on it as that’s just the way it was and nothing would change it.

Her retort was a mixture of Bluepill delusion/Gaslighting and empty platitudes:

“Oh you’re just being silly, looks and height don’t matter it’s personality that counts, and you’re not ugly.”

“I knew this guy once…”

“Well if you just go out to a pub/nightclub I’m sure you’ll meet a nice lady” (Just put yourself out there Bro!)

“If you want a girlfriend hard enough you’ll get one, positive things happen to positive people” (Just be yourself Bro!)

And so on and so forth. The rest of the argument was spent trying to change the subject and turn it around on me (avoiding responsibility, women are good at this btw) and my hatred for homosexuals, with her feigning horror at my use of the word “faggot” and that “with an attitude like that, you’ll push people away and that’s why you’re in the predicament you’re in.” My last response was that I didn’t need to do that with my attitude because my face done that for me. Her last response (women ALWAYS have to have the last word!!) was “You know, even if you were gay I’d still love you regardless!” A blatant, desperate attempt to ignore reality and believe anything other than the harsh facts that I was too ugly and short to ever get a girlfriend.

The conclusion was my mother phoning my father (they were divorced) and telling him about this whole predicament, and my father and I have never been close but his response (ever Blackpilled) pleased me and done me a favour. It was “He might be a loser and a failure, but he’s no faggot, I didn’t raise him to be that way. Leave him be.” Which drew a line under the whole affair and nothing was mentioned of it again.

What struck me in writing this article though was the fact that my experience was far from an isolated one, in fact I came across many articles from other Incels who have experienced the same problem of parents thinking they must be gay because they have never brought a woman home or there has been no mention of a significant other ever in their lives.

Below is just a few examples I found online after 30 seconds of googling the subject, there are likely MANY THOUSANDS more:

Boomer parents can’t comprehend that you don’t have a girlfriend because you are ugly.

So there you have it Bro’s, your parents thinking you are gay and the ensuing Blackpilling argument that will follow, along with their likely Bluepill overdose and denial of reality, is an Incel “Rite of Passage” that you will inevitably have to endure. That is, of course, if you haven’t already lol. Let me know your experiences in the comments, I’d love hear them.

P.S: I did eventually Blackpill my mum 3 years ago, we don’t live in the same country anymore but videocall regularly. By this stage she had gone past the faggot stage and just assumed I was single because I was a near 20 year chronic alcoholic and a junkie lol. Over the course of one of our video chats, I approached the whole “Charles” saga again and I simply explained my genetics and looks are inferior and there is no chance a woman will ever find me attractive enough to be a potential life partner or even just to have sex with me.

She looked completely stunned, and then The Bluepill kicked in and she yet again went on about personality, better hygiene, dating sites etc, but I posted her the Atomic Blackpill image (it was funny lol) and she went very, very quiet. Then she eventually agreed with me that it might be all over and that she was “so sad for me” and vented at the attitude of 21st century females, and said that the world she thought she lived in probably didn’t exist anymore. Then, she also agreed that it’s much harder these days to get a partner as a man than it was in the early 1970’s when she got with my dad.

The Blackpill always eventually triumphs Bro’s lol! Stay strong.