I’ve been Professionally Online for over a decade1.
I have been glued to comments and replies. I’ve read the reviews for my books, my podcast, my face, my personality.
And even the meanest ones — and wow, people can be mean on the Internet! — are no match for my own internal monologue.
There is nothing you can say about me that I haven’t already said to myself, no insult you could level that I haven’t already internalized.
I used to think this was a good thing, that speaking badly about myself to myself was making me tougher.
It was not.
It was chipping away at my already flimsy armor. It was weakening my sense of self. It made me fragile and reactive. It made me unsteady.
I was beating everyone else to the punch, but I was still taking the hit. And like my older brother asked me while slapping me with my own hands2, why was I hitting myself?
You do not have to think — or say! — mean things about your self.
And in f…