The Messages Behind the Arguing that Keep Me Hopeful

Facebook. Ugh. It can be a cesspool of vile human thoughts hammered out in a keyboard warriors rage, but it can also hold community, encouragement, and hope.

But because I have found that hope is in hiding more and more, I am growing bolder in my mission to share the truth.

Let me explain:

Those who get their dopamine fix from arguing their points, often peppering their comments with arrows pointing personal insults directly at the original poster (OP), are out in full force lately. They give no thought to the legacy of hate they are creating for their kids and grandkids to discover years from now. It’s as if screaming into the void of the internet and arguing with strangers makes them feel like they are winning at some kind of head to head shouting match. I can’t think of anything more exhausting. The boldest and most vile deserve and get a quick block and delete.

The most difficult to navigate are comments from those I personally know. Seeing them expose their hearts is not for the weak of spirit.

One caveat: with the exception of one dear friend, who vehemently disagrees with my new political leanings, and has messaged me saying she won’t comment on my posts anymore because she was feeling it was disrespectful to me. I told her thank you very much, and assured her I would of course give her the same consideration. That friend has my respect.

Some others, not so much.

As a rule, I don’t comment on posts with which I disagree. I scroll on by - as we all should do. It’s really not that hard. There’s also this magical little option called snooze for 30 days that has been a bit of a lifesaver.

But that brings me back to the arguers. The ones who just cannot bring themselves to scroll on by. They are not interested in rational discourse or a discussion involving critical thinking. For whatever reason, they must disagree, call me names, and tell me that I just can’t see things the right way because I hate Trump so much. It’s a miracle they are so good at mind-reading, really.

For the record, I don’t have it in me to hate anyone. I do pity this president, though - for many reasons, and I suppose we can talk more about that later.

When the arguers come out, my defenders are not far behind. And I appreciate them, I really do. I know who my safe people are, and I’m grateful for that.

And then there are the DMs I get. Sometimes someone will comment, “check your messages, please…” The random times I check messenger without being prompted, I am often met with “thank you for saying___________, Tami, you are really speaking for me. But I can’t say anything because ______________” (insert their reason for not speaking out publicly.) Their reasons are always valid, and who am I to judge what public stance anyone should take? They need to stay safe, end of story.

But these encouraging messages, these texts, these phone conversations… they keep me going.

Many have asked why I feel compelled to share what I do. Why am I willing to put myself out there to be ridiculed and harassed by those who disagree with me for sharing real news, data, and information? (Peppered with my opinion, of course - I’m not a robot.)

I’ve thought long and hard about the answer to that question. Why, indeed?

I am a classic Enneagram Nine. I usually RUN from conflict. My conflict-avoidance over the years has caused me much internal angst and at times I’ve felt quite sure I was on the precipice of an ulcer attack at any given moment. But this? This seems too important. I’ve been a peace-keeper for far too long, and I’m learning the difference that being a peace-maker can bring. I’m still on that journey of learning.

I also have a Bachelor’s degree in Journalism, with minors in Political Science and Speech Communication. I mean… even though it was decades ago, is there any question that those three subjects have wired my brain for anything less? I think not.

It’s become clear to me that there are those who are so deeply invested in the cult of personality that they may never emerge and see light. They are the arguers. They make me sad, but I don’t post and share the facts and news for them. I share for those who are beginning to have doubts. I share for the independent thinkers who just need a seed of doubt planted in their psyche that will grow to a leafy tree of truth and eventually snuff out the hate, the bigotry and the lies.

And I share for those who send me private messages, thanking me for my bravery. I post for them to let them know they are not alone.

There is a great and growing army of truth-tellers who are bringing the light to expose the darkness. Together, may we be a force too bright for that darkness to overcome.

And that, my friend, gives me all the hope I need for today.