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They thought their son lived an isolated life. But when he died, friends showed up in droves.

Mats Steen's parents were shocked to learn their severely disabled son had lived a rich, independent life they knew nothing about.

Netflix/YouTube

Mats Steen lived a secret life that his family only discovered after he died.

Mats Steen was only 25 years old when he passed away, his body succumbing to the genetic disease that had slowly taken his mobility since childhood. He'd lived in a wheelchair since his early teens, and by his 20s, his physical abilities had deteriorated to the point of only being able to move his fingers. He could push buttons and use a mouse, and he spent nearly all of his waking hours playing video games in his parents' basement.

His family loved him and cared for him through it all, giving him as much of a normal life as they could. But they also lamented everything they knew he'd missed out on. "Our deepest sorrow lay in the fact that he would never experience friendships, love, or to make a difference in people's lives," Mats' father shares.

Mats left behind the password to a blog he kept. Not knowing if anyone would actually read it, his parents published the news of Mats' passing in a blog post, adding their email address in case anyone wanted to reach out.

Much to their surprise, messages began pouring in from around the world—not just with condolences, but with heartfelt stories from people who called Mats their friend.

The Steens soon discovered that their son had lived a much fuller life than they'd ever imagined—one that included all the things they always wished for him.

As his online life was revealed, the family learned that Mats began his days with a routine 30-minute sprint through the forest. He frequented cafes and pubs, chatting with strangers and flirting with women. He sat by campfires having heart-to-heart conversations. He made friends and enemies. He fought heroic battles. He supported people in times of need. He gave advice that people took. He experienced his first kiss.

And he did it all as "Ibelin," his handsome, muscular avatar in the online game World of Warcraft.

- YouTubewww.youtube.com

Mats' life is showcased in the documentary, "The Remarkable Life of Ibelin," in which his parents share the story of how they discovered their son's group of friends they didn't know he had.

People who've never played an open world roleplay game like World of Warcraft may wonder how real community can be built through it, but Mats' story proves it's possible. The friends he made through the game have shared the real influence he'd had on their real lives, from helping them with problems they were facing to empowering them to make positive changes in their relationships.

Though he never met them face-to-face, Mats' online friends say he made a significant impact on them.

A young woman Ibelin had connected with as a teenager—the one with whom he'd shared that first virtual kiss—shared that her parents had taken away her computer when they feared gaming was interfering with her studies. When she logged on at a local library, Mats gave her a letter he had written to give to her parents, encouraging them to talk with her about her gaming hobby and to work out a solution together that didn't require her to give it up completely. She printed it and gave it to them. Miraculously, it worked.

Another woman had been having a hard time connecting with her autistic son as a young adult. When she talked with Ibelin about her struggles, he suggested that she and her son start gaming together and connect in that way first. Eventually, that connection via the virtual world led to warmer in-person interactions between them—and a life-changing shift in their relationship.

"I don't think he was aware of the impact that he had done to a lot of people," the mother shared.

Mats interacted with the same online friends as Ibelin for years, going through the kinds of ups and downs all real friendships experience. He kept his physical condition a secret until close to the end of his life, when he finally opened up to another player who convinced him to share his reality with the others. Some traveled from other countries to attend his funeral, with one of them speaking on the group's behalf and a few of them serving as pallbearers. Those who knew Ibelin also held a memorial in-game at his virtual gravesite—a tradition that has spread beyond just his own guild.

Typically, we think of someone escaping the real world and spending hours a day playing video games as unhealthy, but for Mats, it was a lifeline. As Ibelin, Mats was able to have a level of independence and a rich social life that simply wasn't possible for him in the offline world—an uniquely modern phenomenon that technology and human creativity have made possible.

Mats' impact on his online community was real, and 10 years after his passing his impact is spreading even further.

Duchenne muscular dystrophy, the genetic disease that Mats lived with and ultimately died from, affects 300,000 boys worldwide. It only affects males and it has no cure. But CureDuchenne, a global nonprofit dedicated to funding and finding a cure, has partnered with Blizzard and World of Warcraft in Mats' honor. From now until January 7, 2025, World of Warcraft players can purchase a limited-edition pet fox named Reven ("fox" in Norwegian). The Reven Pack, which includes a transmog backpack and Reven’s Comfy Carrier, costs $20, with 100% of the purchase price being donated to CureDuchenne.

The Reven Pack on World of Warcraft—100% of purchase cost goes to the CureDuchenne foundation.World of Warcraft/CureDuchenne

“Mats Steen lived a life in World of Warcraft that he couldn’t in the real world as he fought Duchenne muscular dystrophy alongside his incredible family, who I’m proud to have met and fallen in love with,”said Holly Longdale, executive producer of World of Warcraft. “Working with CureDuchenne for our Charity Pet Program, in honor of Mats’ memory, allows us to harness the power of our phenomenal global community to bring meaningful impact to so many lives.”

You can learn more about Mats' story in the award-winning documentary, "The Remarkable Life of Ibelin," on Netflix and learn more about the CureDuchenne fundraising initiative with World of Warcraft here.

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Verizon Warrior Series
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Video games can be powerful mental health tools for Veterans

That's why Verizon is launching a gaming tournament.

Courtesy of Verizon
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If someone were to say "video games" to you, what are the first words that come to mind? Whatever words you thought of (fun, exciting, etc.), we're willing to guess "healthy" or "mental health tool" didn't pop into your mind.

And yet… it turns out they are. Especially for Veterans.

How? Well, for one thing, video games — and virtual reality more generally — are also more accessible and less stigmatized to veterans than mental health treatment. In fact, some psychiatrists are using virtual reality systems for this reason to treat PTSD.

Secondly, video games allow people to socialize in new ways with people who share common interests and goals. And for Veterans, many of whom leave the military feeling isolated or lonely after they lose the daily camaraderie of their regiment, that socialization is critical to their mental health. It gives them a virtual group of friends to talk with, connect to, and relate to through shared goals and interests.

In addition, according to a 2018 study, since many video games simulate real-life situations they encountered during their service, it makes socialization easier since they can relate to and find common ground with other gamers while playing.

This can help ease symptoms of depression, anxiety, and even PTSD in Veterans, which affects 20% of the Veterans who have served since 9/11.

Watch here as Verizon dives into the stories of three Veteran gamers to learn how video games helped them build community, deal with trauma and have some fun.

Band of Gamerswww.youtube.com

Video games have been especially beneficial to Veterans since the beginning of the pandemic when all of us — Veterans included — have been even more isolated than ever before.

And that's why Verizon launched a challenge last year, which saw $30,000 donated to four military charities.

And this year, they're going even bigger by launching a new World of Warships charity tournament in partnership with Wargaming and Wounded Warrior Project called "Verizon Warrior Series." During the tournament, gamers will be able to interact with the game's iconic ships in new and exciting ways, all while giving back.

Together with these nonprofits, the tournament will welcome teams all across the nation in order to raise money for military charities helping Veterans in need. There will be a $100,000 prize pool donated to these charities, as well as donation drives for injured Veterans at every match during the tournament to raise extra funds.

Verizon is also providing special discounts to Those Who Serve communities, including military and first responders, and they're offering a $75 in-game content military promo for World of Warships.

Tournament finals are scheduled for August 8, so be sure to tune in to the tournament and donate if you can in order to give back to Veterans in need.

Courtesy of Verizon

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Female gamer gets perfect revenge on sexist troll by telling his mommy on him

via Kallie Plagge / Twitter

The gaming world is not a safe place for women. A British study found that more than half of female gamers have experienced verbal abuse, 40% have received obscene messages, and 10% have been threatened with rape while playing online.

Female game reviewers are prime targets for male harassment as well. "I don't know any women in the industry who haven't experienced [harassment]," Kallie Plagge, a reviewer at GameStop.com told The Daily Beast."It varies by how outspoken you are on Twitter, for example, but I think we all get demoralizing comments, whether it's about our appearance or about the things we say."

Recently, Plagge published a review of a new video game called Days Gone that she gave a score of five out of ten. In her critique, she noted that the lead character Deacon was "selfish, and it's simply boring that the game is uncritical of him."

Her lukewarm review of the game resulted in a backlash on social media. Plagge received over two dozen Facebook messages and countless tweets. Most of them were from men who complained that she was prejudiced "SJW."

(SJW stands for social justice warrior and is a pejorative term used against activist progressives.)

"It was very clear [from] very early on that it had nothing to do with the content of our review," Plagge said. "It was very much just that guys wanted to find an excuse to say sexist things to women."

One harasser sent Plagge a disgusting message and she found the perfect way to get him back.


via Kallie Plagge / Twitter


Plagge did a quick Facebook search and found the harasser's mother and shared a screenshot of his disgusting message.


via Kallie Plagge / Twitter



via Kallie Plagge / Twitter

"Hello! You don't know who I am, but your son does," Plagge wrote to the woman via Facebook. "I thought you might want to know the kinds of messages he sends to women he doesn't agree with. He sent me this because I wrote a review of a video game."

"I am so sorry," the man's mother replied. "He is 37 years old and I am so going after him. He definitely has problems. I will straighten him out!!!"

Dude is 37 years old and does this shit. Way to make a mother proud.

Plagge's revenge had to feel sweet, but it just shows the amount of work that's to be done before women can feel they can participate in the gaming world without being harassed. But at least there's one guy out there who's going to think twice before sending any more disturbing messages to women online.

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The surprising thing her friends worried about when she came out as trans.

People thought my nerdy interests would change. They didn’t — but my relationship with them did.

In June 2015, I picked up the phone and dialed my old friend Rick’s number, guided by the muscle memory of having done it so many times before.

This time, the topic wouldn’t be our excitement over the new Dungeon Master’s guide or some neat piece of esoterica we had learned in Mr. Zebracki’s history class. This discussion would be much more abstract.

“I have something to tell you, Rick,” I began. “I realized recently that I’m transgender, and I’m planning on transitioning genders at some point in the next year or so, so that I can live my life a little more honestly.”

After a moment of silence, Rick said exactly what I was hoping to hear: “You’re one of my oldest friends. If that’s what you think you need to do, of course I support it, and I’ll help you however you need me to.” But he also had some questions: Would I still play video games? Would I still like Star Wars?

Rick and I bonded in high school over our mutual love of nerd culture, which we had embraced long before anyone else thought it was cool.

It started with daily after-school pilgrimages to the comic shop to buy Star Wars cards, our beloved pastime that occupied us for hours. The amount of time and money we spent on them was ungodly. As we grew older, Star Wars cards eventually gave way to encyclopedic knowledge on movies, music, anime. Rick even found a way to make sports nerdy with his encyclopedic knowledge of the history and statistics of any given game. It was more than an obsession. It was in our DNA.

Yet Rick, and many others I shared the news of my transition with, still wondered whether changing my gender presentation would affect my bone-deep love of nerd culture.

Friends asked, "Can we still talk about 'Doctor Who'?" and "Does this mean you won’t play Starcraft with me anymore?" My dad even asked me if I’d still want to make beer with him the way we do every Thanksgiving. The nature of these questions made me realize how invested people were in the assumed gender alignment of the activities we all enjoyed together.

"Of course I’m still going to do all of those things!" I replied each time. From my perspective, I was making a change that would lighten my mood and allow me to enjoy life better. Yes, I would look different, and I would be happier, but I wasn’t concerned any of my passions or interests would disappear. To those who expressed these concerns, I may as well have been walking away from everything that made up my personality.

I realized at a basic level, they thought nerd culture was “boy stuff.”

Before my transition, I hadn’t thought much about how that attitude might have affected the girls’ experience. Now that I was moving from being one of the boys to "just like one of the boys," I realized how different those experiences really are.

For people socialized as men, being part of a predominantly male clique is an important part of building a self-concept. It supplies men with a healthy sense of validation and inclusion. It’s that same pack mentality that gave rise to concepts like "guy code," "bros before hoes," and "locker room talk." Without feeling a connection to it, some men feel they are missing out on a crucial part of life.

The essence of male hierarchy touches all cultures, as Katelyn Burns points out. So it should come as no surprise that it also touched communities I was involved with.

I, too, had been socialized to believe certain things were for men and other things were for women. Any crossover should be looked at as foreign and suspicious. I don’t blame men for these aspects of toxic masculinity that seep into the general population. It’s a part of the blueprint men are handed in youth. It's the same blueprint I was given and lived with uncomfortably for 27 years.

Girls, on the other hand, tend to approach being "one of the guys" as something we use to get past gender barriers and just engage with the things we like.

Women tend to see the activities we participate in as less enabled by gender (i.e., "boxing is a sport for men") and more enabled in spite of gender (i.e., "just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I can’t be a boxer").

Women are conscious that participation in male-dominated activities tends to be at the leisure of the men involved, and that membership in the group could be revoked at any time.

For example, if one of the men begins to pursue a woman in the group romantically and she doesn’t return his interest, her continued participation may be threatened. This becomes even riskier for women in male-dominated professions like cybersecurity — my own field of expertise. In professional settings, the stakes raise dramatically. Rejection of a man’s advances can cost us more than our hobby, sometimes it can cost us our jobs.

Often, women deal with this fundamental outsiderness by creating secret spaces where we can pursue feminine interests on our own terms, where being "one of the guys" is no longer the only key for entry.

When I reintegrated into my old hobbies post-transition, I found there were entire subcultures built by women of the group, for women. These small, isolated, and distinctive societies women created were completely invisible to me before I transitioned.

It was like finding a secret room in a house I lived in for decades.

In these women-centered spaces, topics of feminine interest could be discussed openly and out of view of the men in the group. We were shielding ourselves from having to openly remind anyone that we were women. We feared if they noticed, our passageway into acceptance might close.

I watched this happen many times online, in particularly hostile ways. Once men realized an opponent was a woman, players in online games like "Battlefield," "Counterstrike," or "Halo," emboldened by anonymity, would launch into misogynistic attacks after every victory or loss, or sometimes for no reason at all. Any given round I could expect to hear sage platitudes, such as, “go back to the kitchen,” or “why don’t you make me a sandwich?” not to mention a barrage of slurs.

The nerd culture narrative is that we’re a group of outcasts who built a community to cope with the awkwardness and rejection of being a pariah in a social structure that didn’t value the same things we did. But we brought the seeds of our own inherent caste systems with us.

It perpetuated an unspoken marginalization of girls that bordered on outright contempt. It forced girls to find ways to evolve and to express themselves despite the constraints that exist when men make the rules.

Nerd culture is always going to be a part of me and my history. I wouldn’t be who I am without it, and I’m glad that I still have a place in my communities no matter what I’m wearing, what my name is, or how I look. In many places — at my local gaming store, at my friends’ houses, and in these women-centric spaces I never saw before — I’ve found the accepting and understanding community that nerd culture is supposed to be.

I’ve also realized how far we are from being that all the time, for everyone.

The road to acceptance runs directly through a minefield of toxic masculinity, and women’s participation is often tentative — and requires we leave our woman-ness at the door.

Our identities are complex. The interests of women are broad and deep, as is our capability to adapt to situations in casual and professional settings. Being the versatile creatures we are, women will always find a way into communities that interest us.

We have a chance to set aside any preconceived expectations we have of gender and fight the goblins together. We’re going to need all the help we can get.

This story first appeared on The Establishment and is reprinted here with permission.

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