There are specific moments in life that can ignite significant personal transformation. The recent presidential election was one such moment for me. By the summer of last year, my nightly rants at the TV had shifted to jotting down thoughts on paper; honestly, the alternative was losing my mind. This change brought about dual benefits: not only was writing a cathartic release, but it also meant my 2-year-old was less likely to blurt out inappropriate words at the worst times. (Kids really do say the funniest things, don’t they?)
Having enjoyed some success, I continued to explore political topics through my writing. For a stay-at-home mom whose recent achievements revolved around basic hygiene, receiving accolades for my essays on domestic policy was a refreshing change. I felt rejuvenated—driven, inquisitive, and bursting with energy. It was as if I had escaped from five years of sleep deprivation by tiny humans. I was on cloud nine!
That is, until the social media enforcers showed up. Clad in oversized T-shirts and eye-catching leggings, they informed me that my political opinions were unwelcome in their online space.
I understand the exhaustion we all feel from the chaos of the 2016 election. However, I firmly believe in the necessity of civic engagement, especially since becoming a mom. While I get that many are fatigued by political discussions, scrolling past content you dislike doesn’t seem too challenging. Plus, it’s not like I’m posting every few minutes or anything.
I should’ve anticipated that wouldn’t satisfy the social media monitors.
Initially, I received gentle nudges—like a driver reminded of their responsibilities. It could have been worse, but I sensed a hint of condescension. There were subtle jabs, a sudden lack of interest in neutral topics, and even the dreaded “unfollows.” How, you ask, do I know about the unfollows? You guessed it: those passive-aggressive posts.
While mildly annoying, these reactions were nothing compared to phase two: community service.
Suddenly, I was bombarded with relentless invitations to live Facebook events and added to groups without my consent—groups promoting things like “leggings for a better life.” I grew worried that a box of overpriced clothing would arrive at my door any day. It felt like I was being coerced into supporting initiatives that those same individuals had publicly criticized. Money, after all, knows no political boundaries.
I had encountered social media marketing before, but this felt different. I had been dismissed for my beliefs and essentially deemed useless by people who once appreciated my company—except when it came to my wallet. Where I used to ignore aggressive marketing, I now felt manipulated. Each generic business message dripped with a disingenuousness that was hard to overlook.
Here’s a tip: Those leggings enthusiasts are now as prevalent as Tupperware parties from the ’90s. You can’t escape them; if you’re a judgmental jerk, you’ll soon find yourself replaced.
Regardless of our differences, I understand your perspective. You likely believe social media should focus on uplifting quotes, whimsical stories, and, of course, selling merchandise. I know that discussions about politics (especially those that don’t echo your own views) seem distasteful to you—an ironic lack of self-awareness from a crowd proudly wearing vibrant leggings with questionable designs.
But let’s find common ground. I apologize if my political commentary makes you uneasy. However, a bit of discomfort might be beneficial for you.
Given that your livelihood relies on selling comfy pants, it’s understandable that you might shy away from anything challenging. Your world should be filled with rainbows and butterflies, especially considering the high price of those flimsy leggings.
While you’re busy obsessing over the latest seasonal patterns, remember those who can’t afford such luxuries. Their struggles won’t vanish with an “unfollow.” Their pain can’t be alleviated with an angry emoji. Ignoring their realities won’t help; in fact, your aversion to discomfort only contributes to their ongoing suffering.
So, the next time political discussions appear in your feed, resist the urge to scroll past. Embrace that uneasy feeling because it’s often where growth occurs (and let’s be honest, you might someday need to wear real pants again).
I assure you, I don’t write to provoke anger. My aim isn’t to be irritating. I suspect your sales pitches are not meant to be bothersome either. I write because I feel a responsibility to advocate for change, no matter how small.
At the end of the day, we’re all navigating this chaotic world the best we can. So here’s my proposition: I’ll cease my political commentary when you stop thrusting your leggings into my face.
Sound fair?
Now, can we agree that such a compromise is as futile as launching a missile without hitting the target? (What? Too soon?) It’s unlikely to happen. We’re both passionate about our pursuits, and that’s perfectly okay because social media can accommodate us both. So, let’s put aside the “internet police” for now. It’s divisive, unnecessary, and frankly, a poor match for your outfit.
For more insights, check out this great resource on pregnancy and home insemination. And if you’re interested in improving your fertility, consider visiting this authority on fertility boosters. Plus, learn more about home insemination techniques in our other blog post.
In summary, let’s embrace our differences, engage in meaningful dialogue, and recognize that we all have something valuable to contribute.