The curse of relatability

We want to see ourselves reflected in the content we consume. But at what point does it hinder our ability to be whole, contradictory humans?

Over the last two and a half years, I’ve developed a thicker skin. Like so many women with even the slightest online presence, I’ve had to.  

Being female and having an opinion has, for some time, been unquestioningly recognised as an invite for criticism – and in my two-and-a-half years running The Flock in its various carnations, I’ve found that to be entirely true. Even now, months after moving to Substack, my phone will beep every so often to alert me to a new angry comment from some mediocre white dude who has googled his pet subject – Nicola Sturgeon say, or vaccines – found an old article with my byline on it and decided that today, I shall be the lucky recipient of his inferiority-led online vitriol.

Their anger has always struck me as odd, as has the idea that we must berate, criticise or threaten those with whom we disagree on occasion. For the most part though, I’ve made my peace with it. Learned to block and move on.