Remember way back in your childhood, when it was the first day of school and you were wearing your newest favorite shirt? And it made you feel good to wear it, but you were nervous thinking about all the kids you didn’t know and what they would think of you when they saw you? Even what some of your friends would think?
I’m sure I’m preaching to the choir here, but that’s what talking and writing on the internet feels like a lot of the time.
We’re proud of what we put out there, or at the very least we’re proud of the effort we put in to make something. Just like so many other creative pursuits, we do the vulnerable part of taking thoughts out of our brains and putting them into something that other people can look at and interpret and at least try to understand.
And then we brace ourselves for that group of bullies that we just know is going to swagger over any minute now, and tell us exactly how we should feel about our work (usually negative).
What I’m finding though is that, most of the time? It’s not the bullies that come over. It’s the kids who see you and think “hey, I like their shirt. They seem pretty cool.”
In the past couple months of ramping up my LinkedIn posting, I’ve realized that we really are all just a bunch of young kids on the playground, sharing what we think and like and hoping the other kids will be nice.
I’ve had a few folks reach out in messages to say they resonated with some of what I’d written, and that they enjoyed it. I knew a few of them personally, but I also had a handful of complete strangers take the time out of their lives to read my thoughts and let me know that those words spoke to them. Those little messages absolutely made my day.
I’ve reached out to a few people too—they may have extended the connection request first, but I replied back complimenting something of theirs I’d read. Saying it gave me a new perspective on an old quote, or that it provided validation to keep doing something I’d just started.
Maybe it was just their default response, but they seemed genuinely happy and appreciative that I’d said I liked their work. And maybe it’s self-centered to admit, but it felt good to give someone the same little bit of joy and validation that I had been getting.
My point here is simple: be nice to people. If you like what someone has written, let them know! Drop a few words in a comment or a message. Think about how much time you spend re-reading and fretting over your own work, and then remember that even the most confident-seeming person probably is a similarly nervous, intimidated five-year-old on the inside.
The internet is one giant, weird playground. Tell another kid you like their shirt sometime.