Dear “Nice” Straight Men
We need to talk
I just saw an unhinged manifesto from an Incel Bunny, and wow. Just… wow. I won’t post it here—you don’t need proof of its existence. This kind of thing is everywhere these days. But the gist? Women with tattoos scream during sex because they’re “disconnected from their femininity,” and, apparently, the desire for oral sex is an attack on men as a species.
Now, I’d love to dismiss this as just another fever dream from an internet basement philosopher, but here’s the problem—this brand of nonsense is loud. Loud enough that a lot of women start to believe this is how ALL MEN think. And can you really blame them?
And that? That’s why so many women are opting out of the “wife force.” Not because they “hate men” or because feminism has turned them into cold, corporate drones—but because the constant undercurrent of resentment from certain corners of masculinity is dehumanizing and exhausting.
If being a “good woman” means being seen as some malfunctioning appliance that needs to be fixed (but never truly loved), why would anyone sign up for that?
Why This Affects You Too
This is where I turn to you, a good-natured guy who allegedly doesn’t think like this. Someone who claims to respect women, love women, and doesn’t spiral into an existential crisis over the existence of a butterfly tattoo.
YOU need to manage your bros.
Because this? This is affecting your love life. Also, they won’t listen to us, so this is on YOU.
Women are tired. We’re wary. And if this unchecked hostility keeps spreading, we’re heading toward a world where women either go their own way entirely or they might even be legally or economically forced to feign love just to survive (like the good old days).
Imagine never knowing if your wife actually loves you—or if she just legally loves you. If she’s with you because she wants to be or because she’s been backed into a corner.
You. will. never. know.
So if you don’t want to live in a dystopian nightmare where love is transactional, where connection is drained of all meaning like a vampire’s discard pile, and where partnership is replaced by quiet, simmering resentment—maybe it’s time to speak up.
Or forever, hold your own piece
Maybe it’s time to stop letting the Incel Bunnies be the loudest voices in the room.
Because trust me, we are becoming very cautious.