I was fortunate to grow up in a scholastic system that embraced apartheid, no, so that crap about black and white, but segregating boys and girls.
Girls are like any other wonder drug of programming, the more you are exposed to them, the more alluring they are and the more of their shit you will put up with and the more effort you will expend to gain acceptance by them.
Classrooms are *utterly* different too, not only are there no girls for anyone to impress, you don’t get any “jocks” either… sure, you get one or two boys who start shaving at 14 and are 6 foot and kick ass on the sports fields, but since there are no girls to idolise them they end up talking to everyone, and the class dweeb is quite likely to take the piss out of them to their face.
Anyone who went through old school men only military training (indeed one of the channels our place fed into was the armed forced officer training lark) will know what I am talking about here, Molseworth Jr might be a right cunt, but he was stuck in the same jug as you, which made him one of yours.
Of course all the shit you get from everyone *else* is that everyone who goes to a boys only school is a right homo / shirt-lifter / cocksucker / takes it up the ass / etc.
For my sins I did some short stints in ordinary mixed schools, and I can tell you, anecdotally and factually, that there is *far* more limp wristed wimpy faggy pathetic shit going on in mixed schools… and I’m not talking percentage points or even orders of magnitude, I’m talking a total fucking absence in one and a total lack of anything masculine in the other.
These (boarding) schools used to be particularly harsh awakenings for 11 year olds (at the time 11/12 years old was the 1st year of senior school, hence 1st years or 1st form, in your 5th year you sat O level exams and could in theory leave school and go to work, or stay two more years, lower and upper 6th, sit your A levels, and then go to work, or go on to university of college or an academy / OTC etc) who had up until then either avoided school altogether in the colonies, or managed to attend a local day school, and it doesn’t matter which school you went to 1st and 2nd form was always referred to by some name that involved them shitting themselves, because they were the lowest rung on the ladder.
So the little shits are crying themselves, literally, to sleep every night, and nobody gives a shit, get over it kid, and three weeks later a parcel arrives from home, mummy has sent you your favourite chocolate cake and stuff…. which promptly gets stolen / confiscated / taken by the 3rd former who has the unpleasant duty of nursemaiding you little shits this week, making sure you are all up dressed and washed and down for breakfast, making sure your homework is done during prep, making sure you are washed undressed and in bed for lights out.
Which is only fair, because that is what said 3rd former went through when he was a 1st former…
By the second term of the 1st form, you learned to divvy up all your treats instantly amongst everyone else in the dorm, and if the 3rd former takes it first, say nowt, better still invite him to have some, politely, and he will, and you will get the rest back to divvy up.
It was brutal, in the sense that the regime was so powerful compared to the individual that you could not beat it, you could to some extent choose the manner in which you conformed, but conform you will. Choice does not enter into it.
Several years ago I bumped into a chap, managing director of a company, twin screw diesel yacht and villa in Spain, Jag and Bentley in the direway, yadda yadda, hadn’t seen him for years, “Hey Stinky” I said.. no malice in it.
That was his nickname, and everyone had one, every year had a stinky.
Stinky was the quiet shy guy who was too embarrassed to take his clothes off and wash and shower (not that the showers were ever more than lukewarm) with everyone else, and who didn’t understand having to do shit for himself, so every week on the bed the top sheet went on the bottom, new top sheet and new pillow case, and all your laundry went into the old pillow case, so stinky started to smell.
So the other boys ragged on him, which just made him even more turtle in a shell, so about six weeks into his first term they throw him and all his clothes in the showers, on cold, with a bar of soap, and then the bedclothes, (2 sheets 1 pillowcase 1 blanket 1 counterpane I set of pyjamas) too, and tell him, wash yourself and your clothes stinky, and every morning and evening we do not see you washing with everyone else, we do it to you again…. so stinky spent the night in damp pyjamas in a damp bed, shivering.
He never had to be told again, but 6 years later in the upper 6th he was still “stinky” to the rest of his form, and he shall forever remain so, but only to us.
(In the spirit of full disclosure, stinky responded to my greeting with “Hey cunty”, as I was a procurer of “cunt books” eg porn mags I used to swag (steal) from the 6th)
That sort of thing was not an example of brutality, or anything that stood out, that was perfectly normal day to day routine.
“Sport” was of course compulsory, rugby union, running, hurdles, javelin, discus, and cross country, and of course gym 2 hours a week indoors, you all did them all, no exceptions, no excuses, no allowances. You did not have to be any good at them, but you fucking well did them all.
Broken bones would get you sent off to hospital, anything less it was a sticking plaster or an aspirin, take your pick…. Of course anyone actually being given an aspirin or sticking plaster by the school nurse / matron was purely apocryphal.
If, and I mean if, anyone questioned or commented on any of this, it was to remark that “Boys need toughening up”.
To be strictly fair, the girls equivalents weren’t a hell of a lot better, substitute hockey for rugby and domestic science for woodwork, but the regimes were broadly similar.
But in the same vein, they were unable to have any opportunities to show off in front of boys, so it cut both ways.
Invariably there was always a girls school not too far from a boys school, and so fraternisation with the enemy was inevitable, but it happened out of school hours, and if you got caught actually fucking or worse still there was a pregnancy involved, both parties got expelled “for bringing the school into disrepute” which was of course code for being so stupid you got caught.
Again, anyone who has been through old school military will tell you, just because some things are strictly controlled and regimented, it doesn’t mean there is no wriggle room… and it makes the small victories all the more important.
One of the rules was you always had to wear the standard school tie, and yes, you had to year it around the collar of your shirt, nowhere else, and you also had to tie your tie in a Windsor Knot.
No room for expression there… right?
One of my claims to fame was I always had the smallest knot of anyone ever on my school ties, if you tried to just pull it tight eventually you would tear the thing, I had a secret method that involved the application of certain things that made the threads soft and stretchy and slidely, and you only needed to slide the knot a few inches to take the tie off and put it on, you never had to actually undo it… a win for me amongst my form mates, and a win for me from our chemistry teacher.
The point of all this is you go out into the world after school, and girls are no aliens, you know about them, you aren’t shy or anything, the big thing is you utterly lack the 5 or 6 years of absorbing their shit that you get in mixed schools.
Public (UK public, US private) school girls have said the same thing to me, mixed school guys are such effeminate wimps, or troglodytes… like Nigel above.
When you cater to boys and girls simultaneously, it damages both.
The Hermit is therefore someone who does not habitually socialise and acclimatise with whatever it is they are being a hermit from.
It’s the same sort of gap you get between someone who has never been in the services, and someone who has, they always know each other apart… almost always… ex services guys always think ex boarding school guys are all ex services, even though many of them are not, and are ex cons instead..lol
MGTOW is Hermit life.
Abstaining from female company, especially if you are also able to do so in the work environment, makes you much less socialised and acclimatised and attuned to da wimminz.
In my entire adult life, I have co-habited with females for perhaps 10 years.
Of those ten years, perhaps only 2 were actually sharing a double bed, I’d say another 2 years of twin beds, and the remaining 6 years as separate beds and bedrooms.
For the other 20+ years, I have lived alone. Bachelor Boy.
The “culture shock” for me to move into, for example, some skank’s house who has two daughters, and be the new man of the house and play happy families, is probably as great as the culture shock stinky faced all those years ago.
And, crucially, by the time you do adapt, and socialise, and acclimatise, you will no longer be the same person.
You will no longer be the Hermit.
I am at an age now when many factors conspire against me, there are logarithmically less *young* wimminz interested in someone who is mid fifties, as opposed to mid forties, it’s not a big step in age, but it is for many a step too far.
Kids are another thing, I may be biologically capable, but temperament wise I’m getting too old for all that shit, I’ve seen the film before, and it wasn’t what it was cracked up to be, more re-runs don’t interest me.
Wimminz aren’t blind to this shit either, they just see an old dog who can’t be made to learn new tricks, and there ends their interest… huge, vast, unimaginable difference for a wimminz between a “bachelor” and a “confirmed bachelor”
“Confirmed bachelor” is just as alluring and attractive to wimminz as “Hermit”
Which brings me, finally, to the point of this post.
I see lots of younger MGTOW types, and they are trying to have their cake and eat it, and they will cite George Clooney as indicative of something about wimminz here.
They want to be the socially aware and attuned and acceptable Hermit, who gets offers all the time from 7’s and 8’s and 9’s, but who still does their own thang.
It don’t work like that guys.
I did not end up spending most of my life, and in all probability the rest of my life, living as a Hermit because I chose to live in a cave, and chose to not get involved with Julie and Jackie and Jane.
I ended up in a cave because I became a Hermit, and no fucker wants to live in a cave, least of all with me.
And THAT is what you have to make peace with bro.
You can either be your own Hermit, and accept that no wimminz wants to live in a cave, least of all with you, or you can quit being a Hermit, and allow yourself to be made over into something else entirely, a different person entirely.
Self and isolation, or the death of self and companionship, that is the choice.
Make it well, because by the time you get to my age, which will happen faster than you think, the die will be cast and you won’t get a say in it no more.