How to Post Through It
A handy guide for the anxious masses — me included.
It has been apparent for some time that the posters shall inherit the Earth.
Sure, the ultimate luxury is to log off — to extract the tendrils of comments and likes from our internet-addled minds — but who can afford luxuries in this economy? Unless you were born with a leg up through some combination of intergenerational wealth, nepotism, and/or preternatural charisma, you’re stuck in the digital sphere with the rest of us, posting yourself into existence. If once, you faked it until you made it, these days you post your life until you can live it.
Since my adolescence, I’ve watched my peers puppet online personas with increasing self-awareness. They’ve shared their highs and lows, experimented with varying degrees of irony. (Sardonicism, self-effacement — these are shields for the ego. I use them frequently.) I’ve seen my husband, a photographer-cum-influencer, post his way into a dream career. I know the power the posters wield, and yet, I’ve never one myself.
With the launch of this newsletter, I’m changing that. I’m forgoing the comforts of editing, fact-checking, and collaboration provided by traditional media — where I’ve worked for eight-odd years — to post the little publication I wish to see in the world: a place where we can think through problems big and small together. Twice a month, Phone Home convene a panel to discuss a given issue. And as I’m personally pledging to post more, on Substack and elsewhere, and I happen to be launching Phone Home amid historic fires that you definitely should be paying attention to instead of this lil’ post, it seemed prudent to start with the basics: How to Post Through It.
Everyday, my feed is interspersed with news about the latest geopolitical crisis, U.S. governmental failure, or disaster exacerbated by climate change. Add to that how we’re all going through shit individually, too, because that’s just life, and it feels a lot like the end of the world. But still, we have to go to work, pay bills, grocery shop. And still, we have to post! Every day is all there is; also, no pics no proof.
How, though? How do you share a cute selfie when the world’s literally on fire and you’re navigating a personal crisis?
Below,
’ , ’s , beloved poster Bald Ann Dowd (aka Alison Sivitz), and social media consultant Candace Marie give their thoughts.Is there anything, anything at all, that you consider off-limits for posting?
Personally? Subtweets. You lose your moral high ground with someone who's upset you if, instead of addressing it, you just turn them into content. I used to do it all the time and I'm never glad I did—they see it, and then I feel like shit, because I tried to pretend they weren't a real person but they are. Now I'm the asshole even though they were the asshole first! — Kate Lindsay
When I first got on Twitter, I was a college student, and we were all using it to talk about our friends/lovers/professors — real people in our lives. As if no one else could see, which was maybe true back then. But it's definitely no longer true now. It used to be very fun to get a viral tweet off of some Hinge date's foibles, but I've since realized it's quite rude, and I think engenders a lot of paranoia about to treat one another in real life if we're in constant fear of becoming the next West Elm Caleb. — Delia Cai
No! I really don’t think so. There was a great clip of Anthony Jeselnik circulating recently in which he talks about how comedy means “getting away with it,” and comedians who constantly complain about cancel culture are just bad at their jobs. That’s my posting philosophy as well. I think anybody can touch a difficult/taboo subject as long as they’re sure it’s funny enough, smart enough, researched enough — whatever it needs to be in order to convey a point of view succinctly and impenetrably. — Bald Ann Dowd
For me, my family is off-limits—you’ll see very little of them on my social media. The same goes for relationships; after past experiences, I’ve decided to keep that private as well. But that’s just my personal boundary—everyone’s 'off-limits' is different, and that’s okay. On a broader level, I also find it hard to engage with or share content involving violence against Black bodies. Constantly seeing and sharing that kind of trauma can be overwhelming and harmful. I think it’s important for each of us to define our own boundaries and honor them in how we choose to share. — Candace Marie
How much do you think about your posts after you've posted — wished you could edit them, or felt good about them?
CONSTANTLY. In fact, it's the reason I hardly post anymore. I simply became exhausted with routinely cringing at my past self. It wasn't healthy or fair, because the former versions of ourselves shouldn't exist in perpetuity! Now I approach posting the same way I approach clothes shopping: only commit if I 110% believe in it. — K.L.
I almost always find a typo in my newsletters after they've been sent out. Cringe! It honestly gets me pretty down, because then I'm like damn who do I even think I am, I can't even write a sentient couple of sentences without an editor, apparently. — D.C.
I used to obsessively worry about things I posted because I was so afraid of people misconstruing my words. But I quickly realized that it’s incredibly commonplace for people on Twitter to interpret things in bad faith, and there’s an entire section of the website filled with people who can and will find a problem with the most inoffensive posts. Realizing how reactive people can be + how inescapable those reactions are actually helped calm my anxiety. I know that I always post in good faith, and the people who follow me know that I mean well, so I think that’s all that really matters.
I also think growing up online, particularly in fandoms, conditioned my brain to consider every single way that a post could possibly be misinterpreted or taken out of context. All those years spent watching people get dogpiled for posting half-baked thoughts gave me the ability to easily filter my ideas and phrase them effectively. — B.A.D.
At this moment in life, I don’t really think about editing after the fact because I’m so meticulous before the fact. Honestly, doing social media for a living has probably shaped that mindset—I’ve learned to trust my process. And now that I’ve done the 75 Not-So-Hard Challenge, I really don’t overthink it anymore. Social media doesn’t have to be forever—you can always archive or delete if something doesn’t feel right later. Setting a hard deadline to post has helped me build a natural rhythm, and it’s been so freeing to embrace imperfection, hit post, and move on. — C.M.
How do you balance posting both serious content — poltical posts, the odd earnest opinion — and lighter, more irreverent stuff? Does it ever feel dissonant to share both at once?
Again, this is a big reason why I post less. These past few years of social media have made us feel accountable to every single tragedy in a way that is simply not possible for one person to adequately address. At the same time, I'd find it genuinely thoughtless to, for instance, post about how cold my commute in New York is right now while LA is burning. Instead, I think we genuinely could all benefit from saying less and doing more.
At the same time, I remember in the weeks after Roe v. Wade fell, people I followed on Instagram belatedly shared things like their engagements or pregnancies because they said it didn't feel right doing so in the midst of such a tragedy. That was so disheartening to me — we need good news now more than ever! We can be sensitive without letting these things take away our joy. — K.L.
I've honestly backed off from sharing earnest opinions on social media. I'd rather have those conversations in real life! The internet is for shitposting, at least for me. — D.C.
Honestly, I don’t feel much dissonance. We’re all just people experiencing a constant influx of jokes and information, so It feels very natural to fire off a couple of shitposts and then express a more earnest, thoughtful opinion a few minutes later. That type of tonal fluctuation isn’t a big deal. But when something genuinely serious is happening in the world (my mind immediately goes to they NYC college protests in support of Palestine that happened over the summer), I do find it imperative to read the room, hold the jokes, and amplify helpful information about what’s going on. I think I have pretty good judgement, so I always just try to trust my gut and post whatever feels appropriate in the moment.
One more (slightly tangential) note about balancing different types of posts: humor is one of the most effective and disarming ways to express a worldview, which I think probably quells feelings of dissonance. Anybody who’s paying attention to the topics I joke about shouldn’t be surprised by my politics when I state an opinion in a more plain fashion. — B.A.D.
Have you ever posted too close to the sun?
Absolutely. You don't become this cautious online without having been through some messy years. Luckily for me, mine were when I was a teenager, and so that version of the internet has all but disappeared. Like, I posted on my high school boyfriend's Facebook wall when I found out he had cheated on me. But also, he didn't delete it? So it just sat there? Not sure who's the winner and who's the loser in that scenario. — K.L.
Well, the one time I was on jury duty... — D.C.
Probably! I think one time I tried to fit a nuanced take about feminism in Barbie (a movie that I enjoyed!) into one Tweet, which was stupid, and people chewed me out a bit. Nothing too crazy, though. — B.A.D.
I definitely have my moments where I share something really personal. Posting about my experience in the hospital was one of those times. But the feedback I received reaffirmed that it was the right thing to share—it really resonated with people. That said, I’ve also learned my boundaries. You live and you learn, and those experiences shape how and what I choose to post now. — C.M.
What is your advice for people who want to post through it?
Don't! Just kidding. But I think if you build a "brand" that is extremely active online, it's going to be hard to get these moments right. If you ignore it for your mental health, you might feel like you're letting a community down, but if you go all-in on posting about the crisis, you'll burn yourself out. I think creating a more thoughtful relationship with the internet in both bad and good times is crucial. What I do before any post online is send it to my group chat. More often than not, a couple "haha" reacts from my friends satiates the need to also get it from the entire internet. — K.L.
Don't do it because you want to go "viral" with a bunch of faceless strangers. Even if you hit like a billion views, that satisfaction is very fleeting. Do it to make your friends laugh. A shared bit is the gift that keeps on giving. — D.C.
Just say what’s on your mind! Don’t overthink it. The world is so stupid and scary right now and sometimes it’s just fun to get things off your chest alongside a bunch of strangers online. — B.A.D.
My advice for anyone wanting to learn how to post through it is to start by asking yourself: What is the purpose? When I did the 75 Not-So-Hard Challenge, it was a personal choice with clear goals—to grow my email marketing list, financially benefit, and increase account growth. It was intentional, and while it was effective, it was also a lot of work. I’ve never posted this much before and probably won’t again for a long time. But knowing my purpose made it easier to push through the effort. When you have a clear reason for why you’re posting, it gives you direction and motivation to keep going, even when it feels hard. — C.M.
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