I hope you don’t have to learn this lesson the hard way like I did.
One day, I posted a tweet sharing my unpopular opinion on audiobooks (stay with me til the end to find out). It was in response to a guy who has a big following. Not Elon Musk big. But big enough to fill up a college football stadium on a beautiful Saturday afternoon in September.
At the time, I basically had zero followers (not much has changed), so I didn’t think anyone would see it, much less care about it. I just felt spicy that day and shared a silly thought.
I logged off and carried on with my day not knowing the Twitter mob was marching in while screaming for my head.
I had no idea what was in store for me later that day. My notifications tab was lighting up like the night sky on July 4th 🎇. I had gone viral. But this wasn’t your cute cat video kind of viral.
There were dozens, then hundreds of replies calling me a moron, a terrible human, and worst of all — a bad writer.
It was like I had personally punted everyone’s dog off the Golden Gate Bridge. In a matter of minutes, I went from a Twitter amoeba to a Twitter witch that needed to be burned at the stake.
Initially I was upset and insulted, like anyone would be. Then after a moment or two or three of sulking, a switch flipped as I realized the most important point: They weren’t talking about me. They were talking about an avatar on their screen that vaguely looked like me. Who shares my name, but is not me.
I couldn’t be insulted when they called me a bad writer, because they’d never read my writing. I couldn’t be upset when they said I was a terrible human, because they’d never met me. They’d read one measly tweet I spewed out, without much thought. Their reactions had nothing to do with the real me.
Suddenly it was like watching a cartoon character getting attacked. It became entertaining to sit back and watch the hysteria, part of the show, and not personal at all.
But then I realized the opposite was true. It’s the same with compliments. I needed to stop taking praise personally, too. Some lovely people (like you my dear reader) have liked things I’ve tweeted or written, and have given me heartwarming compliments. But those aren’t the real me, either.
So the takeaway is this: internet replies and comments are just feedback on something we’ve created. They’re worth reading to see how our creation is perceived. We can even take it as feedback on the public avatar we’ve created. But all people know is the small piece of us we’ve decided to make public on the internet. So if our avatar is coming across poorly, we can tweak it.
I sat down and meticulously liked and replied to the hundreds of comments pouring in. Thanking them for sharing their opinion. I killed them with the ultimate weapon — kindness.
I’m grateful this happened. Now I know what celebrities go through on a regular basis. And confirmed a thought I’ve always had — I don’t want to be famous.
It makes me think twice before making a complete character judgment because of a silly internet post.
The internet you is not you.
PS - I still think people who claim to have read a book after listening to an audiobook are frauds.
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The internet you is not you
Uninhibited internet spicyness is rather silly indeed
haha.. i had a similar reaction on a linkedin post some months back... I'd said something like one of my interview questions is for the candidate to show me their email inbox and if it was messy i immediately thanked them for their time and ended it. As a person needs to be organized to work with me.
And it lit the Linkedin airwaves on fire... with folks calling me evil etc i loved it however hahahaa