I was hiking with a friend and his partner once, and we started talking about addiction — specifically porn, and my own journey through the 12 steps. Her reaction stuck with me. She seemed repulsed. To her, anyone struggling with porn was basically an incel — morally broken and a threat to women.
I pushed back. How can someone who calls herself a feminist support friends doing OnlyFans, if all male addiction is framed as incel or predatory? Her answer only reinforced the sense that this isn’t a simple male vs female issue. It’s more complex — and far more broken — than that.
I’ve often reflected on that conversation, especially watching Jordan Peterson break down publicly when speaking about young men today. There’s a genuine grief there. A recognition of just how many are silently falling apart. Lonely. Isolated. Disconnected.
I met a guy in a bar recently who’d walked thousands of miles alone. He told me he’d developed imaginary friends and held conversations with himself in different accents. It was funny at first — but deeply human underneath.
And that’s what hit me when I watched Adolescence this month. Everyone talks about the incel narrative in the film, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Beneath it is something more subtle, more tragic, and more universal:
The breakdown of real connection.
Instagram. Porn. Algorithms. Family disconnection. Unresolved generational trauma. It’s all there — the things we don’t talk about. The things that are quietly stealing our humanity.
The Real Matrix
We’ve all heard the word. The “Matrix.” That idea of waking up, escaping the system. Some turn it into a conspiracy. Others use it to market themselves as the rebel hero.
But the real Matrix? It’s not out there. It’s here. It’s in us.
It’s the daily, invisible trade we’ve made as a culture:
People for content.
Bodies for attention.
Intimacy for illusion.
We no longer see each other. We use each other.
Two Sides of the Same Illusion
Men are told to consume — to chase validation, control, performance. They numb out with porn, lose themselves in fantasy, and confuse dominance with strength.
Women are told to monetize — to turn their beauty into a brand, their vulnerability into engagement. They carry the weight of perfection, comparison, and burnout behind curated smiles.
And here’s the truth:
Both sides are losing.
Both are exhausted.
Both are forgetting how to simply be seen.
The Counterfeit of Connection
We were made for relationship. For truth. For presence.
Instead, we’ve built lives around followers, DMs, streaks, swipes. We call it empowerment. Progress. Winning.
But the anxiety, addiction, depression, and disconnection say otherwise.
You can’t build a healthy life by consuming other people.
Not through screens. Not through porn. Not through OnlyFans.
And you can’t build it by turning yourself into a product, either.
You’re more than that.
They’re more than that.
No More Heroes. Just Truth.
There are no influencers coming to save us. No hustle culture that heals. No algorithm can replace grace.
What’s needed is a full awakening — not to a system out there, but to the lies we’ve believed about what it means to be human.
You were made for more than clicks and currency.
You were made for connection. For meaning.
Basecamp Recovery 