Hipsters. Everyone loves to hate them. They're just so easy to make fun of it seems, from their love of abstract and yet undiscovered things to their aversion of any and all things discovered. But what happens when they discover the things you love?

In the days of my youth, in the far off year of 2011, I was into anime.

"So am I, everyone watches anime," I can hear you saying to your computer screen. But you don't understand. I was into it. Really into it.

To say it was a big part of my life is a deep understatement, because it was my life. But it wasn't just anime, it was anything that fell under the realm of being a nerd. It was anime, it was video games, it was comics, it was tabletop gaming. The unbound way that these mediums expressed themselves was like electricity in my veins. It was a welcome change that I had been waiting for my whole life.

For the sake of keeping this article from becoming an essay, suffice it to say that I had never been raised into any culture. I was never given an explicit set of morals to believe in or shown any traits to admire, but after being rapidly exposed to so many people who loved the same things I loved in high school, this completely changed. I formed relationships which deepened and with whom longstanding traditions were formed over our mutual appreciation. In most senses, I had finally found my own culture. I had found a sense of belonging.

So perhaps, you can understand for a moment, that it hurt deeply to watch it die.

"It didn't die!" You exclaim loudly to yourself. "Comic book movies are at an all time high, nerdy things are super popular!"

And that is both the first and last nail in the coffin.

It did seem like an amazing thing at first. After spending so many years being less than open about my Yu-Gi-Oh! playing and undying dedication to Pokemon, it felt amazing to be able to share this, not just with more people, but everyone. It felt like perhaps there was going to be an end to the stigma of enjoying things long considered as being solely for children. Suddenly it became cool to watch old cartoons and new Japanese ones too. It was cool to love Batman or Flash or Spider-Man.

But while the world consumed (and still continues to consume) this sudden buffet of culture, it continues to neglect that there were already people who thought it was cool. People who were doing this anyway, regardless of the volume of ostracization they would receive for it. As it became "quirky" to wear thick rimmed glasses—a special mention for those who both don't need glasses and would add tape to the bridge—it neglected the years of isolation associated with wearing corrective lenses the size of soda bottles, as well as the kids who had to tape their bully-broken glasses together all too often. I had to watch people suddenly proclaim that comic books were cool now,and it was okay to be a child, in the same breath they used to laugh at the same things barely years ago.

It's the only thing I've ever belonged to, and felt a part of. The community it fostered was one that understood its position in the social hierarchy, and rejected the norms of exclusion. It was one that above all else took in people from any creed, sexuality, or clique. It turned no one away, and these things spoke to me.

So this summer, when you or anyone you knows goes to watch any of the thousand comic book movies coming out this year, please take a time to consider the backs on which this popularity stands.