What is wrong with these people?

“Can you hear me that when it rains and shines, it’s just a state of mind?” - Lennon/McCartney (Image by Wolfgang Claussen)

I used to find the Internet, and in particular, social media, an almost intolerable place.

Posts laden with humblebrags and not-so-humble-brags. Comment sections full of people with axes to grind.

And everywhere, people selling, selling, selling. Using their bodies, their children, their black hat tactics, and any other means necessary to gain attention, money, power, or all of the above.

It made me feel frustrated, disillusioned, and hopeless.

I don’t feel this way anymore. That’s not because the Internet has changed. It’s because I have.

What made the difference?

Putting myself out there. Not “out there,” into the fray, but showing up regularly and sharing my work online.

At the most basic level, I could no longer think to myself, “What is wrong with these people?” Now I was one of them.

Instead of seeing everyone on the Internet as a faceless “Them,” I was forced to acknowledge that the media I was encountering online was the result of individual entities making choices, just like I was.

Some of those choices were grounded in wisdom and generosity, and others were made out of ignorance and confusion.

And some choices, of course, were made with the intend to deceive, wreak havoc, and ruin people’s lives.

Of course, what had bugged me most wasn’t the trolls and misinformation. It was the people who seemed to have their act together but were behaving in ways that made me cringe.

Well, we cringe out of empathy. And that means that when I saw people sort of like me doing cringeworthy things, it felt like I was doing those things. And I didn’t want to be caught dead doing those things.

So for a long time, I didn’t do anything at all. It was a good way to avoid that pain, even though it caused other pain: the frustration of blocked creativity, unexpressed ideas, and not being seen or known.

When I started sharing my own stuff, I realized that someone could view me through that lens. The work I did could cause someone to cringe. I didn’t want to make anyone feel that way.

By then, however, I understood that it wasn’t my responsibility to fix that. It was my responsibility to keep doing the work I felt called to do.

If someone else didn’t like what I was doing, they could pay attention to something else, or they could make their own thing.

Naturally, this insight gave me compassion for other creators. The ones who came before me weren’t representing the Internet any more than I was. They were just doing their own thing. If I didn’t like it, I could pay attention to something else or make my own thing.

Sometimes, my fellow creators produce fantastic work. Sometimes, their attempts fall flat. Instead of being jealous of their great work and judging the work that misses the mark, I am simply rooting for them. Their efforts, good and bad, make me feel less alone.

Their best work reminds me of what is possible. Their lesser work reminds me that mastery is an ongoing process. Everyone is finding their way, just like me.

It might sound like I’m idealizing my transformation, but it truly has been dramatic. It’s a lot easier to create without that constant critic constantly on the alert for what everyone else is doing wrong. I don’t have to be afraid of her when it’s my turn to share.

I know that the critical voices of others are still out there. But they don’t have to stop me, either. I have compassion for them, too. I used to be just that way. Maybe those people need a creative outlet, just like I did.