I decided the other day that I’d make an effort to tweet more on Twitter/X. My feed has been recently filled with a bunch of pro-housing/YIMBY, anti-market housing, and other Abundance discussions. So one day, I’m scrolling through and I see this tweet:
The solution to YIMBYism is to have all these closet Republicans move to Texas where people will appreciate their deregulation and trickle down economics.
And I read this thinking “wait Texas has been great on housing legislation, this post is just wrong.” So I quote tweet saying:
Why can’t the left just believe in markets, please!!! The tech-bro (me) can live anywhere, we’re rich enough. Building more housing is so people that aren’t me can live in the city.
Little did I know, I had entered Leftist Twitter and I’m flooded with all these replies on how I’m stupid and “there’s more housing than homeless people!” etc, etc. And, as someone with little to no following, it is the most interesting experience psychologically. I felt the urge to respond to these anons, to clarify my position. “They just think that I’m someone I’m not. Surely they’d understand if I just responded with my real beliefs?”
I did end up replying to a few users but for the most part did not take the bait. Ultimately I had to realize that, truly, Twitter replies are not the place to be trying to convince people of your ideas. But nonetheless, that psychological urge was strong. The thought that I’d be misrepresented or quoted out of context was such an internal nightmare. This is why normal people don’t post on Twitter… they’re cowards. I was a coward.
Jokes aside, I really am someone who will overthink. It’s to the point where uncertainty prevents any action. This is my third attempt at being a blog writer. Why? The fear that one day I would become (gasp) an influencer and the fame would be too much for my psyche. I’ve preemptively said “well if I do write stuff online, and people read it, some of those people will hate it, and I can’t handle the hate, so I just won’t be a writer” (cause what’s the point of writing without sharing it with people?) Given my reaction to a few negative Twitter replies though, I don’t think I’m too far off. It really is fear that’s kept me away from doing anything in public. My social media profiles are barren landscapes, only there as an open channel for DMs from friends.
But then I saw this tweet from Divya Venkat :
i have negative respect for anyone who gets salty because I didn't give their multiple-paragraph cold DM the attention they thought it deserved
imagine having so little going on that you can't even comprehend that other people might be busy
Continuing with:
like yes, i probably would have responded to you at some point if you weren't clearly a weirdo
at this point you can actually smell it from a mile away, people who give compliments bc they're good natured vs the ones who feel entitled to a response
And that spawned a memory of this other tweet from her:
The best writers I know don’t spend much time writing.
In fact anyone who spends most of his time writing is going to be a shit writer - good stylistically, maybe, but lacking substance.
Good writing comes primarily from a full life. It’s an outlet for experience, is as natural as respiration
People to whom it doesn’t come easily don’t get it. They often assume, for example, that prolific tweeters spend a big chunk of their day tweeting.
Literally none of the good accounts I know personally spend much time on it at all
And this tweet reminded me of a post from Rob Henderson on writing:
Most good writing happens beyond the page. Gathering experiences, observing the world, letting ideas take shape. By the time you sit down to write, you’ve already lived through the material. Even if the exact words have yet to come.
Amazing really, thoughts about writing more publicly had been brewing in my mind for months. And it took a strange, somewhat unrelated tweet to bring it back up, front and center. This “negative respect” tweet prompted my sincere response, sparking this conversation:
Me: I'd like to think it's the parasocial thing, like they genuinely think they know you... but then I see dating app DM screenshots and I lose my respect for humanity.
Divya: the parasocial thing is not benign. it is by far the worst thing about being well known in any regard, worse than people simply insulting you it is deeply creepy and disturbing in a way that only becomes clear when ur on the receiving end
Me: Fair point. And social media fame can outstrip your resources to deal with it (e.g. security). You don't decide when you're "too famous." Like being a 10 follower twitch streamer with 1 stalker. Famous actors/singers (presumably) have some protection built-in by the industry.
Divya: yeah but creators don't which is one big disadvantage of building your own platform. my favorite creator growing up had to stop because of stalkers
It dawned on me that Divya was the perfect person to ask about my writing conundrum. So I sent her a DM:
Me: Moving discussion to DMs since it's a more personal question (no obligation to respond ofc):
I'm currently thinking in these exact terms on whether to write/post more publicly (honestly inspired by one of your threads on writing). I already make enough of money from my career as an engineer, so it's more about potential for impact. Would you say, all things considered, it was still worth building out a public platform?Divya: 1 million percent
it's worth doing even for me and as a young girl i probably get it worst
And that was when I knew… that I was being absolutely pussy, and I just needed to start writing. Like I said in my tweet, you don’t get to decide when you become “too famous.” And the upside to being public can be so large before I ever reach the “too famous” downsides. So as far as my life is concerned now, the downsides literally don’t exist.
I’ve been afraid. To the extent that I care about privacy, it’s just an attempt to be able to curate my own image. If I meet a stranger in passing, they don’t know me, and I can be infinitely people pleasing. My friends and acquaintances? They only ever know what I explicitly tell them. I have the most control over my image as a private person.
But a public profile on social media, it’s a bit of a forcing function. Because the image is presented to everyone, and there’s a persona that gets built up (intentionally or not) over time. From my vantage point, there’s a decision to be made, do I curate my image for the sake of others, or for myself?
In my personal life, I’ve been thinking a lot about this: to what extent do I be authentically me? Because authentic me will be polarizing. I’m like a flavor of ice cream, let’s say chocolate. Some people love chocolate ice cream, most people are indifferent to it, and some people hate it. I could live my life as a some “flavor shape-shifter” being vanilla one day, strawberry another, and for very few allowing my true chocolate self to show. But why do I even want the vanilla and strawberry people in my life? I should just be chocolate and see where the chips fall, just be authentic.
I’m thinking about social media and writing in the same vein. The primary difference is the scale. In real life, if someone doesn’t like you, (most likely) you never have to see them again (exception being someone in your family, workplace, or school). In online life, you can get people who actively dislike you. The closest real world analogy is a bully, who will always try to get on your nerves in your presence. Although online you can mute or block the bully, at a certain scale you have to just ignore because of the sheer volume. At that scale, you’re in this strange reality where people, without even knowing you, utterly hate you. And that’s such a mind fuck.
And that’s why I’m a such a wuss. Cause I don’t have the self-assurance to say “ok, that guy just hates chocolate ice cream.” Instead I’d be groveling on the floor like “I take it back! I take it back! Hey look I’m vanilla now see? See? Or strawberry if you’re into that. It’s all good now, right?” I’m letting myself be shaped by my haters, and this is prior to even having any true haters!
What a ridiculous way to live. The real questions should be:
Do I like writing? Yes
Do I think others may benefit from my writing? Maybe (Yes, hopefully)
Do I write as myself or someone else? Myself
Am I willing to accept the potential consequences (positive and negative) that come with writing publicly? I don’t know.
The last question isn’t really a thing I can “game out.” Things will just happen and I have to respond accordingly, so for now my answer has to be yes. Because I’m here right now, accepting the consequences. And for now, nothing will happen because no one is watching… phew.