I am a person.

I am a person.

Hi, it’s me, down here in your feed. I am a person. A real live, living, breathing human. I have a mom and a dad, friends, and family. I might have a dog. I might live in a house or an apartment or even in my car. I might go to work everyday, maybe school, maybe I stay home and take care of my kids or maybe I hit the streets every day with a stack of resumes hoping for work.

I might be different than you. But,

I am a person.

I just posted a question about how to train my dog, a question you find a little stupid. If you were standing in front of me would you have made that joke while you looked me in the eye?

I am a person.

I just shared a picture of my kid playing in the park. Would you have told me what a terrible parent I was for letting my child play barefoot if you were playing next to me in the park?

I am a person.

Recently, I was managing an the page for an event we were having at my job. There were nearly 8K people “interested” in this event on Facebook. Some tagged their friends, some shared their excitement, and a handful of those 8K people complained. They didn’t like the way the event was ran, what the cost was, or the purpose of the event. They called the planning stupid, they said we scammed people, they said we exploited the animals. Some complained publicly and some complained directly through messenger.

I am a person.

Particularly, I’m a person who likes to make people happy. A person who still believes that I can make everyone happy all at once. Those complaints kept me up while I was trying to fall asleep, they stayed with me while I dreamt, and they were still there in the morning when I drove to work trying to put on an excited face for this big event. And I wondered as I drove in to work, do they know I’m a person? Do they care that I want to make them happy? Does it matter to them that they’ve upset me?  

I am a person.

I am also a person who is addicted to the internet, who loves social media and who feels closer to her tribe because of it. My best friends live hundred of miles away and thanks to the internet I feel like they’re sitting right next to me and we’re experiencing life together. I don’t have to miss my friend’s son climbing in to the swing because she wouldn’t help him in. I don’t have to wait to find out that my friend’s meeting with her director went perfectly, or hear that my other friend is frustrated by her team. The internet brings me closer to my friends and family, but the internet is continually dehumanizing us.

I am a person.

I am a person who is trying to remember that when I take to the keyboard, there’s a person on the other side of that screen. Someone with feelings, someone with friends, someone who’s day I might end of ruining if I don’t think before I type.

I am a person.

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