Some interesting comments popped up under a few of my social media reels recently. Actually…. It was one comment repeated and posted to more than one of my reels from the same anonymous account.

As a person who shares on public social media… I’m no virgin to hate comments. And I get my daily dose of negative Nancy and Neil’s. Dealing with negativity on the Internet is like taking a multivitamin. It’s chunky and smells bad and makes you feel nauseated but it’s got to be done if you’re going to be healthy. If you’re going to be online… miserable human beings with busy fingers and loud, incorrect opinions come with the territory.

But these comments weren’t that. They felt familiar… and targeted…

Their comments were something to the effect of “Oh you’re so much more perfect than the rest of us!” and it was on posts about how I truly care about people but I will match energy if I am treated badly.

The commenter was triggered by my confidence in my goodness. That’s a personal trigger if you ask me. Who else could care that I’m confident I’m kind to those deserving?

And…

Whoever the (slew of random letters username) human was had enough bitterness in them to post on more than one reel. That took effort. That took emotion. Possibly even anger. Because how many strangers on the internet decide to go after multiple posts of a social media person to get their rocks off and feel superior? Usually they stick with the one reel they came across and are done. And if they go to more it’s because the post is far more offensive than someone just saying they match energy like mine did.

Anywho. It specifically reminded me of a certain someone (I joyfully burned bridges with) who is just the type to hide behind the internet and throw a triggered sissy fit tantrum because they think they can lash out without consequences. They hate to see consequences coming. That shrivels their proverbial balls faster than an ice cube. They love to throw insults and then whine and cry like they weren’t the one who attacked first.

It amuses me.

You know why?

Because there was a time in my life when I doubted my knowing. When I doubted my intuition. When I doubted myself.

But I’m forty-three now.

Forty-three and past the horrible mid-life crisis that stripped me to the bone marrow of my existential existence and threatened to end me with my own hand if I didn’t wake the hell up and start protecting and rejoicing in myself for once. If I didn’t start putting myself before all those people who were all too willing for me to be last.

And I did start protecting myself.

Fiercely.

Healing made me meaner.

But… mean to the ones who deserved it.

And if we are being honest (which we always are) for most “mean” was just setting boundaries in my best interest.

Mean was no longer shrinking to keep the peace.

Mean was clapping back at the insulter instead of clapping my hand over my own mouth and letting them throw their verbal, emotional daggers.

Mean was no longer being available to people who only showed up when they needed and wanted what I could give them… even when they knew I hardly had enough to keep myself going. Those were the people who would have demanded the last string I was hanging from… and “mean” was me finally telling them, “No. You can’t have it. I need it.”

How dare I, right?

And lastly… mean was me no longer taking responsibility and shrinking how I moved through my life and spoke my truth to make others feel able to love and accept themselves within their own personal fears, judgments, and limitations.

The commenter gave me content. Something to write about. And a reminder that I made a lot of great decisions in 2024 and 2025.

2025 really was the year of the snake for me. I shed a lot of bull shit.

And 2026 is already shaping up to be a future full of blessings.

I know who I am now.

I love who I am…. Imperfections and all. You can’t attack me with what you perceive as my darkness because I’ve already examined it under a microscope and integrated it.

I love the people in my life because they get me. I don’t have to prove anything. I don’t have to shrink. Eggshells are a thing of the past.

And I love where my life is going. It’s going beautiful places full of peace, joy, and gratitude.

So… yes.

I am a good human and I know I’m a good human. I no longer apologize for things I didn’t do wrong or believe in flaws you imagined in me so you can feel better about yourself.

If that wrinkles your skin…

Get Botox, bitch.