February Focus: Day Twenty-Seven
Once in a while I’ll get the urge to make content where I show my face again and give my opinion about the state of the world. But even the thought of going through with it exhausts me. I don’t need the pressure. Even though I have a lot to say about all the things I see, that is simply not the medium to do it. Because resigning a piece of my persona to an entirely online presence just doesn’t feel like something I want on the surface anymore.
Toward the end of my shift today, we were all having a laugh. I was feeling personable. One of my co-workers reached for another one of the cookies I brought in from the farms in my hometown, saying, “I said yesterday that whoever brought these, I hate you.” But he smiled and looked at me as he was saying it. All good-natured jokes from those I consider good friends, followed up with thanks for my generosity. Think nothing of it, my friends. It’s second nature to me, as it is being a theatrical goofball who’s pretending to do office stand-up.
The energy was good. We were getting work done. And then one tiny thing got under my skin enough to bring it all to a grinding halt.
I saw someone responding to one of my sarcastic joking-not-joking tweets calling me an idiot. And it bothered me. This person, who I did not know, had no reason to lie to me, and was not used to my online tinfoil-hattery. Immediately I stopped talking IRL, hearing just how quiet things were when I wasn’t being my screaming self. I was hurt and all I could do was clam up about it, becoming a husk of who I was five minutes prior. It all felt so foolish, and no one else felt it. Aren’t I supposed to be over this online foolery already? Who cares if someone calls me an idiot? I’ve been called worse. Why all of a sudden did my skin become thin?
Everyone is able to tailor their online experience to them. Content creators just do what they do and are able to sort of prune whoever chooses to follow. You can see what you want to see, and if you’ve got the resources, you never have to see what you don’t want to. But there is no element of control when those on the outside look in. If I think I have any shot in putting myself out there, I have to take the slings and arrows of snide commentary from those who simply choose not to get it. I can’t change their mind, even if I was given a thousand years to try. And there’s no use in trying to peel away at figuring out what causes people to respond in the way that they do.
I’ve always thought of my online audience as measured and open to discussion, just like in the rest of my exterior life. It’s interesting how one comment can wound, though. That’s not what I want my online experience to be, but I can’t always help that. Better I know I can still be caught off my guard, even when I think I’ve unsheathed all my swords for battle.