Member-only story
I Thought I Was an Incel Until I Realized I’m Trans
Being trans can mean whatever you need, especially if it saves your life
I used to think I was an incel.
Rather, I used to fear everybody else thought I was one, if they weren’t busy assuming I was gay. And if they actually did, I didn’t have much room to blame them.
On the surface, I was the perfect profile: perpetual loner locked in my room struck with a clear inability to forge a genuine romantic connection. I wouldn’t be surprised if people pitied me or assumed I’d developed some poor thoughts on the “opposite” gender.
True, I had fears and uncertainties surrounding women, but all of these were internalized. Like wondering if I’d ever truly be able to perform in bed. I didn’t believe I was owed an ounce of attention or sex and often questioned why any woman would want to touch my body.
In my eyes, I was disgusting, inside and out. The sorts of words I would use to describe myself privately? Pervert, worm, gnat.
Loneliness won out, and I bumbled my way into having a girlfriend in university. I became more outgoing, putting up a front and dressing more masculine. Queue sigh of relief: I wasn’t an incel; I was just an awkward shy kid who needed time to grow into myself! I had all…
