Hi Dana. I am with you that those who leave online hate are unhappy in their own lives. And that is their punishment.
I also blame the '90s and Jerry Springer, lol. I have been loosely holding a theory that politics is approximately 30 years behind the current national mood. That gives us Jerry Springer-style rhetoric and behavior now in politics...which informs the news cycle...which influences public discourse...which trickles out into interpersonal exchanges...which returns to fuel political discourse as politicians are incentivized to mimic and amplify their constituent attitudes (well, those who are financially able and enfranchised to vote).
All of this to say, YOU are planting HEALTHFUL SEEDS of introspection and thoughtfulness and minimalism and freedom from addictions. The torrent of wind-whipping, vehicle honking, siren sounding, utter chaos in the internet streets cannot stop the microgreen growth from the tiny seeds you are planting in our internet landscape. Always bet on green. :)
Aww, thank you from my heart, Mmerikani. And likewise: your presence on substack is always full of kindness, generosity, and care. When I see a comment from you here or on Notes, I already know it will be thoughtful - even before reading. That says worlds and makes a beautiful difference. Thank you. ❤️
Hi Dana. I woke up this morning and wish to say that your kind words above, describing my presence on Substack, mean so much to me. That is exactly how I am trying to be! It is rewarding to see that it is coming across. Thank you friend. 💕
I do not write many comments unless I feel moved shortly after finishing whatever it is. If I need to stop and think, start plotting, as though I were writing a short story or novel ... nope, sorry. Some of that comes from how limited my time is and, therefore, valuable. Some of it also comes from the importance of authenticity and spontaneity. Without the latter, I might as well leave it to some chatbot to write comments under my name.
Thank you, Taishin Michael. I greatly appreciate your presence here and your authenticity around commenting. It makes any comments you leave all the more meaningful.
I wield the mute and block buttons early and often. Commenting is a good way to build engagement as a writer but if it's not doing that then I don't want to deal with it
Dana, so relatable! The first time hate comments happened to me (you see how passive that is?) I was completely surprised, couldn't understand what I'd written that precipitated them. In the end, it was clear (followers of a celebrity didn't like what I'd written about her) but the name-calling! The vitriol! And my initial unrelenting curiosity to read every hateful word! Anyway, I hope you'll continue to focus on the loving responses, which are, in my experience, far...truer. xo
I was just talking with a friend about this today! I remember when I first started taking writing online seriously, I wrote a piece about the pain of living abroad for a publication and they shared it to their Facebook page. I made the mistake of going to the Facebook post to read what was being said and was quickly reminded of how mean people could be. I've never forgotten that experience. After seeing the mean comments, I couldn't stop going back to see what new mean comments would show up day after day—it consumed me. I never responded, but I secretly got lost in reading them and it felt so bad, but I couldn't stop. I was really proud of the article, and reading the comments made me feel ashamed for even submitting it. These days I think my skin is thicker, because now I see it much like you and realize the comments people make are a reflection of them, not me. I actually went back to read my article recently (not the comments) and I think it's still one of my favourites. Thank you for sharing your experience, Dana.
Thank you so much for sharing that, Kaitlyn. How painful - my heart goes out to you. And your experience aligns closely with my own: something I had been proud of writing suddenly filled me with shame. Huge recognition for your courage in continuing to show up, write, and share from your experience and heart.
My heart to you as well, Dana. Nobody should ever have to be on the receiving end of such terrible words. I'm proud of you for continuing on and sharing yourself with us, too!
I haven’t had hate comments yet, and would probably run away if I did, I don’t want anyone to gain entry to what’s going on in my heart. I thought this was such a great piece of writing, I love the way you are so beautifully honest. I like authentic comments that encourage me to continue with what I’m doing. I would love people to join in and talk about the ordinary joys of their lives or ask questions, I’m not sure why, mostly, they don’t. And that’s okay too 🌻
Thank you so much, Lucy. And as a weekly reader of your newsletter, I can’t imagine anyone hate commenting there. It’s such a nourishing, kind, gentle space. Grateful for your presence here and for your heart-sourced writing!
Gosh Dana, reading your experiences of online hate left me feeling nauseous. This is the ugly side of humanity for sure. And yes, I can relate to that experience of it being quite compelling to watch and read - like not being able to look away from a car crash. My own worst experiences have been on my local community Facebook page, which sadly now I'm very hesitant to comment on at all (though do still read, if only to stay aware of what's going down around me). I'm continually surprised by how little this seems to happen on Substack and hoping it stays that way for as long as possible, though I fear the tide may turn at some point....
Thank you, Vicki. And oof - I remember how brutal Facebook can be. So far at least, Substack feels like an exceptionally kind, supportive corner of the internet to me. Sure, there are pockets of hate here and there, but I find it easier to stay clear of them compared to elsewhere online. Very grateful for your presence on this platform!
No—sobriety doesn’t give us protection—except from the chemicals that we were so inclined to kill ourselves with. Otherwise we have to feel—and that feels very vulnerable. Oof—another lesson learned. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve had enough. 🙄
Ever been to a river, or mountain, or otherness that makes you catch your breath. That deflates your ego and makes it irrelevant, so much so that you can't even remember it existing. That same difference between yourself and such a force can be carried over into what is called everyday life. It's not a buffer or suppression. It's re-living of the found wild inside of you that makes your living so real that hatred doesn't know what to do with it. It's difficult to find such forces of nature these days. But they're still there. Sacrifice to find them, it's worth it. And then defend them, because it's the only real life we have left.
Dana, all I can offer is this: there is nothing in any of that sewage that has to do with you. NOTHING. If there is any wisdom in self-reflection, it's that when we speak hate to someone else the only person we're hating is ourselves. Their pain isn't about you. It's about themselves. When they try to destroy you or anyone else, they are trying to destroy themselves. And at some powerful level, they know it too, as do we. You will die a slow horrible emotional death if you take such things personally. And yes, that stuff is hard to read. But that's their journey. Not yours. And you are under no compunction to be their whipping post. There is great grace in offering mercy to people who are in such pain that they would wound others, but far greater mercy, which you most assuredly deserve as do we all, in setting guard rails to not let such barbs wound you. These are people looking for someone to blame for their pain when the source is in the bathroom mirror. Again, as it is for us all.
Thank you for sharing, Julia. A gentle reminder that I request at the end of every essay: “Just please keep your shares about you and your experience. No unsolicited advice, please.”
Dana, you said you'd love to hear what this looks like for me, in my life and experience. I responded to that. Kindly, if you didn't want me to respond, why did you ask? Out of respect the comment is removed. The absolute best of luck to you in your journey.
Hi Julia, I always welcome people to share their experience as pertains to them. Similar to recovery groups, I ask that people do not share unsolicited advice directed at others in this space. The comment you deleted contained advice directed at me:
Dana, I'm a prolific writer, and this kind of thing is what I write about quite often. My addiction was eating disorders, which I had for forty years and finally stopped in January 2011. I have a blog and a Substack News letter here. My entire focus is all about health including emotional and mental and spiritual, taking your life back, and living vibrantly. There's no quick way to respond to this because as a writer this IS my work. How this looks for me is how I live my life, the way I took my life back from incest, rapes and abuse, and I've been writing about this for years. I also wrote a prize winning book called Wordfood which speaks to how we speak to ourselves, which is where it all begins. I wish I could give you a short encapsulated version, but this is a moment to moment, day to day, year to year journey, as it is for us all, and finding our way to a combination of self-love, sanity and joyous existence takes daily, enormous courage, gratitude and fortitude. I came from a broken, alcoholic home, never drank a drop, but have been just as addicted to food, exercise, sex, designer duds, you name it. I have lived addiction. The journey out of it never ends, but we do get ever so much better. I'm not going to insult you by tagging my blog here (I think it's rude to promote oneself on another thread in the comments); if you're interested you can find me all over the Internet. What I do know is that the muscles we build when we work on ourselves do indeed get stronger, our ability to handle the hard stuff does indeed get better, and life does improve. One trick I will share: find your funny. The single most powerful arrow in my quiver, my absolute God killer when it comes to the shit people sling at you including and the absolute worst, the shit we sling at ourselves, is to stop taking this shit so seriously. Find your inner Robin Williams. When you can laugh no matter what, you have THE super power. That is what saved my life, stopped the eating disorder and absolutely, positively, made the difference. I salute your journey as I do all of our journeys. And one more thing, Dana, the more you write, the more visibility you have, the more barbs and slings and viciousness you will subject yourself to. It comes with the territory. Find your funny NOW. Do it NOW. How? Here's what changed my life: Take the WORST situation you were ever in, especially if it relates to sobriety. Your WORST drunk, most horrifyingly embarrassing moment. The one that shames you to this day, and give it to your favorite comedian as comedy fodder. Imagine what they'd do with that situation. I did that. I gave mine to Robin Williams, and I swear to you Dana, I nearly split a gut laughing. THAT was the moment that everything changed. I never saw my shit the same way again. I took that transformational moment and started doing it more often. That was about fifteen years ago. It takes great personal courage to look at shit that shames you and find what's absurdly, idiotically funny about it. Once you do it will never ever own your soul again. NEVER.
Dana, I am not a regular reader of yours, I did not see that proviso, and I responded with my whole heart with every intention of being of service. Since you're clear that you want only our experiences, this: I find that my reaction to something is far more instructive that the thing itself. That's also from Eckhart Tolle, and a great reminder to me that what's inside me is the greatest teacher. You didn't have to reprint the comment to make your point. I removed it out of respect for you. As I said, I wish you the very best on your journey.
Dana made a clear request not to offer unsolicited advice, but that's exactly what you did. Deleting your advice and admonition protected you, not her.
The respectful approach would have been to follow her clear guidelines in the first place. When she asked again for you to talk about your own experience, you responded with more advice.
I recently read a post by another writer on Substack who said, "You and I are WAY Too Old and have been around WAY too long to project the shit that's in our lives onto others. Especially if we're writers. If you and I are going to write in ways which are transformative, we might want to mine, and mind, our own minds."
These are wise words, particularly when applied when we’re in the comment sections of others who have taken the time to kindly make clear and simple requests to not give advice.
My intention in removing the comment was out of respect, Steve, please do NOT tell me what I was trying to do. I felt deep empathy for Dana in her story, did my absolute best to respond, it wasn't the right response and I am now being castigated for trying to do the right thing by taking the offending comment down. How is any of this healthy? How is ANY of this helpful? You're not privy to what's going on inside me, I was sorry the comments didn't land well, and this has turned hateful, which is precisely what Dana was writing about. This whole exchange is about punishment and catching people doing something wrong. It was an honest mistake and I tried to correct it. This is fascinating in that way that studying road kill is fascinating. Nothing in this exchange is healthy right now. We ALL make mistakes. ALL of us.
Hi Dana! As usual… LOVED this and relate to SO much of it. For me, in addition to hate, there’s more that gets under my skin… and people seem to do it with EVERY article you write (and everywhere else too)…. They can’t follow simple instructions. I find it so disrespectful! You clearly write “ Just please keep your shares about you and your experience. No unsolicited advice, please—and definitely no hate comments!”
How hard is it to honor that request. So many of the comments I read here are lovely, but there’s always one or two “holier than thou” folks who think they need to advise you how to navigate your shit.
For me, hate comments are one thing, but what’s even more insidious and violent are the comments that pretend to be supportive, but by ignoring your clear requests to not give unsolicited advice, it’s actually a stealth attack, meant to fly under the radar, disguised in what looks like friendliness, but is dripping with disdain and contempt. These, for me, are actually far worse, for they are meant to disarm you, make you feel safe. Frankly, I’d rather have the hate - at least those people are showing me who they are. The contemptuous stealthy advice givers make my blood boil.
Good for you, Winston! I realize that makes sense intellectually...but have trouble internalizing it mental-emotionally.
Hi Dana. I am with you that those who leave online hate are unhappy in their own lives. And that is their punishment.
I also blame the '90s and Jerry Springer, lol. I have been loosely holding a theory that politics is approximately 30 years behind the current national mood. That gives us Jerry Springer-style rhetoric and behavior now in politics...which informs the news cycle...which influences public discourse...which trickles out into interpersonal exchanges...which returns to fuel political discourse as politicians are incentivized to mimic and amplify their constituent attitudes (well, those who are financially able and enfranchised to vote).
All of this to say, YOU are planting HEALTHFUL SEEDS of introspection and thoughtfulness and minimalism and freedom from addictions. The torrent of wind-whipping, vehicle honking, siren sounding, utter chaos in the internet streets cannot stop the microgreen growth from the tiny seeds you are planting in our internet landscape. Always bet on green. :)
Aww, thank you from my heart, Mmerikani. And likewise: your presence on substack is always full of kindness, generosity, and care. When I see a comment from you here or on Notes, I already know it will be thoughtful - even before reading. That says worlds and makes a beautiful difference. Thank you. ❤️
Hi Dana. I woke up this morning and wish to say that your kind words above, describing my presence on Substack, mean so much to me. That is exactly how I am trying to be! It is rewarding to see that it is coming across. Thank you friend. 💕
So many hearts to you, Mmerikani! ❤️
This really sucks! I feel better now.. 😊 thanks for the great article. I can relate. I get pulled in at times.
Thanks, Mark! Cheering us on as we look away. 😊
My Love peels another layer of the addictive patterning away in this one! Again revealing a raw glimpse into her, and our, Wound.
❤️
Thank you for the reflection, Dana.
I do not write many comments unless I feel moved shortly after finishing whatever it is. If I need to stop and think, start plotting, as though I were writing a short story or novel ... nope, sorry. Some of that comes from how limited my time is and, therefore, valuable. Some of it also comes from the importance of authenticity and spontaneity. Without the latter, I might as well leave it to some chatbot to write comments under my name.
Thank you, Taishin Michael. I greatly appreciate your presence here and your authenticity around commenting. It makes any comments you leave all the more meaningful.
I will definitely re-read this. Good stuff in this juicy essay.
Reading your writing is always an uplifting, positive experienc for me, period. I wish you everything positive that you wish for yourself.
Really! Sincere thanks🙏🏽
Oops, typo: "experience:
Thank you, Mark. I appreciate your kind, generous words and presence here!
I wield the mute and block buttons early and often. Commenting is a good way to build engagement as a writer but if it's not doing that then I don't want to deal with it
I hear you, Kazmierz. I love that Notes has a mute button. It offers an easy way to invite in what’s helpful and say no thanks to what’s not.
Dana, so relatable! The first time hate comments happened to me (you see how passive that is?) I was completely surprised, couldn't understand what I'd written that precipitated them. In the end, it was clear (followers of a celebrity didn't like what I'd written about her) but the name-calling! The vitriol! And my initial unrelenting curiosity to read every hateful word! Anyway, I hope you'll continue to focus on the loving responses, which are, in my experience, far...truer. xo
Thank you for sharing that, Val. Argh. It sure is wild out there. But makes me appreciate kind, thoughtful people like you all the more. ❤️
Likewise, dear Dana! xo
I was just talking with a friend about this today! I remember when I first started taking writing online seriously, I wrote a piece about the pain of living abroad for a publication and they shared it to their Facebook page. I made the mistake of going to the Facebook post to read what was being said and was quickly reminded of how mean people could be. I've never forgotten that experience. After seeing the mean comments, I couldn't stop going back to see what new mean comments would show up day after day—it consumed me. I never responded, but I secretly got lost in reading them and it felt so bad, but I couldn't stop. I was really proud of the article, and reading the comments made me feel ashamed for even submitting it. These days I think my skin is thicker, because now I see it much like you and realize the comments people make are a reflection of them, not me. I actually went back to read my article recently (not the comments) and I think it's still one of my favourites. Thank you for sharing your experience, Dana.
Thank you so much for sharing that, Kaitlyn. How painful - my heart goes out to you. And your experience aligns closely with my own: something I had been proud of writing suddenly filled me with shame. Huge recognition for your courage in continuing to show up, write, and share from your experience and heart.
My heart to you as well, Dana. Nobody should ever have to be on the receiving end of such terrible words. I'm proud of you for continuing on and sharing yourself with us, too!
Those kind of people are never worth engaging with, online or in real life.
Agreed! Thanks for being here, David. 😊
I haven’t had hate comments yet, and would probably run away if I did, I don’t want anyone to gain entry to what’s going on in my heart. I thought this was such a great piece of writing, I love the way you are so beautifully honest. I like authentic comments that encourage me to continue with what I’m doing. I would love people to join in and talk about the ordinary joys of their lives or ask questions, I’m not sure why, mostly, they don’t. And that’s okay too 🌻
Thank you so much, Lucy. And as a weekly reader of your newsletter, I can’t imagine anyone hate commenting there. It’s such a nourishing, kind, gentle space. Grateful for your presence here and for your heart-sourced writing!
Gosh Dana, reading your experiences of online hate left me feeling nauseous. This is the ugly side of humanity for sure. And yes, I can relate to that experience of it being quite compelling to watch and read - like not being able to look away from a car crash. My own worst experiences have been on my local community Facebook page, which sadly now I'm very hesitant to comment on at all (though do still read, if only to stay aware of what's going down around me). I'm continually surprised by how little this seems to happen on Substack and hoping it stays that way for as long as possible, though I fear the tide may turn at some point....
Thank you, Vicki. And oof - I remember how brutal Facebook can be. So far at least, Substack feels like an exceptionally kind, supportive corner of the internet to me. Sure, there are pockets of hate here and there, but I find it easier to stay clear of them compared to elsewhere online. Very grateful for your presence on this platform!
No—sobriety doesn’t give us protection—except from the chemicals that we were so inclined to kill ourselves with. Otherwise we have to feel—and that feels very vulnerable. Oof—another lesson learned. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve had enough. 🙄
Sigh... At least all these feelings and lessons give me something to write about. 😅
Truedat 🙏
Ever been to a river, or mountain, or otherness that makes you catch your breath. That deflates your ego and makes it irrelevant, so much so that you can't even remember it existing. That same difference between yourself and such a force can be carried over into what is called everyday life. It's not a buffer or suppression. It's re-living of the found wild inside of you that makes your living so real that hatred doesn't know what to do with it. It's difficult to find such forces of nature these days. But they're still there. Sacrifice to find them, it's worth it. And then defend them, because it's the only real life we have left.
Thank you for sharing that, Juantastico. I’d love to hear what this looks like for you, in your life and experience.
Dana, all I can offer is this: there is nothing in any of that sewage that has to do with you. NOTHING. If there is any wisdom in self-reflection, it's that when we speak hate to someone else the only person we're hating is ourselves. Their pain isn't about you. It's about themselves. When they try to destroy you or anyone else, they are trying to destroy themselves. And at some powerful level, they know it too, as do we. You will die a slow horrible emotional death if you take such things personally. And yes, that stuff is hard to read. But that's their journey. Not yours. And you are under no compunction to be their whipping post. There is great grace in offering mercy to people who are in such pain that they would wound others, but far greater mercy, which you most assuredly deserve as do we all, in setting guard rails to not let such barbs wound you. These are people looking for someone to blame for their pain when the source is in the bathroom mirror. Again, as it is for us all.
Thank you for sharing that, Julia. I’d love to hear what this looks like for you, in your life and experience.
Thank you for sharing, Julia. A gentle reminder that I request at the end of every essay: “Just please keep your shares about you and your experience. No unsolicited advice, please.”
Dana, you said you'd love to hear what this looks like for me, in my life and experience. I responded to that. Kindly, if you didn't want me to respond, why did you ask? Out of respect the comment is removed. The absolute best of luck to you in your journey.
Hi Julia, I always welcome people to share their experience as pertains to them. Similar to recovery groups, I ask that people do not share unsolicited advice directed at others in this space. The comment you deleted contained advice directed at me:
Dana, I'm a prolific writer, and this kind of thing is what I write about quite often. My addiction was eating disorders, which I had for forty years and finally stopped in January 2011. I have a blog and a Substack News letter here. My entire focus is all about health including emotional and mental and spiritual, taking your life back, and living vibrantly. There's no quick way to respond to this because as a writer this IS my work. How this looks for me is how I live my life, the way I took my life back from incest, rapes and abuse, and I've been writing about this for years. I also wrote a prize winning book called Wordfood which speaks to how we speak to ourselves, which is where it all begins. I wish I could give you a short encapsulated version, but this is a moment to moment, day to day, year to year journey, as it is for us all, and finding our way to a combination of self-love, sanity and joyous existence takes daily, enormous courage, gratitude and fortitude. I came from a broken, alcoholic home, never drank a drop, but have been just as addicted to food, exercise, sex, designer duds, you name it. I have lived addiction. The journey out of it never ends, but we do get ever so much better. I'm not going to insult you by tagging my blog here (I think it's rude to promote oneself on another thread in the comments); if you're interested you can find me all over the Internet. What I do know is that the muscles we build when we work on ourselves do indeed get stronger, our ability to handle the hard stuff does indeed get better, and life does improve. One trick I will share: find your funny. The single most powerful arrow in my quiver, my absolute God killer when it comes to the shit people sling at you including and the absolute worst, the shit we sling at ourselves, is to stop taking this shit so seriously. Find your inner Robin Williams. When you can laugh no matter what, you have THE super power. That is what saved my life, stopped the eating disorder and absolutely, positively, made the difference. I salute your journey as I do all of our journeys. And one more thing, Dana, the more you write, the more visibility you have, the more barbs and slings and viciousness you will subject yourself to. It comes with the territory. Find your funny NOW. Do it NOW. How? Here's what changed my life: Take the WORST situation you were ever in, especially if it relates to sobriety. Your WORST drunk, most horrifyingly embarrassing moment. The one that shames you to this day, and give it to your favorite comedian as comedy fodder. Imagine what they'd do with that situation. I did that. I gave mine to Robin Williams, and I swear to you Dana, I nearly split a gut laughing. THAT was the moment that everything changed. I never saw my shit the same way again. I took that transformational moment and started doing it more often. That was about fifteen years ago. It takes great personal courage to look at shit that shames you and find what's absurdly, idiotically funny about it. Once you do it will never ever own your soul again. NEVER.
Dana, I am not a regular reader of yours, I did not see that proviso, and I responded with my whole heart with every intention of being of service. Since you're clear that you want only our experiences, this: I find that my reaction to something is far more instructive that the thing itself. That's also from Eckhart Tolle, and a great reminder to me that what's inside me is the greatest teacher. You didn't have to reprint the comment to make your point. I removed it out of respect for you. As I said, I wish you the very best on your journey.
Dana made a clear request not to offer unsolicited advice, but that's exactly what you did. Deleting your advice and admonition protected you, not her.
The respectful approach would have been to follow her clear guidelines in the first place. When she asked again for you to talk about your own experience, you responded with more advice.
I recently read a post by another writer on Substack who said, "You and I are WAY Too Old and have been around WAY too long to project the shit that's in our lives onto others. Especially if we're writers. If you and I are going to write in ways which are transformative, we might want to mine, and mind, our own minds."
These are wise words, particularly when applied when we’re in the comment sections of others who have taken the time to kindly make clear and simple requests to not give advice.
AMEN. THANK YOU. BLESS YOU, STEVE. ❤️
My intention in removing the comment was out of respect, Steve, please do NOT tell me what I was trying to do. I felt deep empathy for Dana in her story, did my absolute best to respond, it wasn't the right response and I am now being castigated for trying to do the right thing by taking the offending comment down. How is any of this healthy? How is ANY of this helpful? You're not privy to what's going on inside me, I was sorry the comments didn't land well, and this has turned hateful, which is precisely what Dana was writing about. This whole exchange is about punishment and catching people doing something wrong. It was an honest mistake and I tried to correct it. This is fascinating in that way that studying road kill is fascinating. Nothing in this exchange is healthy right now. We ALL make mistakes. ALL of us.
Hi Dana! As usual… LOVED this and relate to SO much of it. For me, in addition to hate, there’s more that gets under my skin… and people seem to do it with EVERY article you write (and everywhere else too)…. They can’t follow simple instructions. I find it so disrespectful! You clearly write “ Just please keep your shares about you and your experience. No unsolicited advice, please—and definitely no hate comments!”
How hard is it to honor that request. So many of the comments I read here are lovely, but there’s always one or two “holier than thou” folks who think they need to advise you how to navigate your shit.
For me, hate comments are one thing, but what’s even more insidious and violent are the comments that pretend to be supportive, but by ignoring your clear requests to not give unsolicited advice, it’s actually a stealth attack, meant to fly under the radar, disguised in what looks like friendliness, but is dripping with disdain and contempt. These, for me, are actually far worse, for they are meant to disarm you, make you feel safe. Frankly, I’d rather have the hate - at least those people are showing me who they are. The contemptuous stealthy advice givers make my blood boil.
OMG, Steve. Thank you SO much for this. Needed it, needed it, needed it. One thousand percent agree. Thank you for being here with my whole heart. ❤️
Incisive insight, Steve. Thanks for sharing it.