I'm Not Hiding, I'm Just Anxious (Same Thing)

Weighing the benefits of showing up online against a fear I can't actually justify anymore.

Something I’ve struggled with is putting myself out there online. It’s never felt like a big deal, but I’ve been working on myself this year, and part of that has been noticing the small, inconsequential things that actually mask deeper stuff. Staying anonymous was one of them. I recognized it was born out of anxiety, and I’ve reliably found that the best way to get over anxiety is to go through it.

There’s an obvious case for being online: it can grow a professional presence, build community, occasionally hand you a wildly random opportunity (see: the woman who got signed after singing a jingle about Dr. Pepper on TikTok), or give you a platform for a cause you care about. I know all this. It’s never been the issue.

The issue is the fear underneath it, and it breaks down into three things: being dragged, people I know seeing what I make, and actually becoming popular.

The dragging one falls apart under any scrutiny, as I’m not an offensive person; I’ve never gone after a marginalized group. The worst-case scenario is maybe a misunderstanding, since I joke and I’m sarcastic and that doesn’t always land in text. But even a misunderstanding requires someone willing to be uncharitable, and I don’t know why I give that hypothetical person so much power.

The “people I know” fear collapses even faster. People who know me know me. They’d read my sense of humor correctly far more reliably than a stranger would. And I’m not exactly disliked in real life, so there’s no real reason that wouldn’t translate.

The fear of becoming popular is the one I can’t talk myself out of as easily. My bar is embarrassingly low - 50 people and I’d feel like I’d “made it”. But even that unnerves me. Which is objectively absurd, because plenty of people are actively trying to build an audience and only a tiny fraction manage it. If people who are chasing attention on purpose mostly don’t get it, I’m not sure what I’m at risk of.

And I have evidence this works out fine. I ran an Instagram account for marginalized individuals in my sport one summer. I wasn’t even the main character, just the person featuring other riders, and it blew up. I ended up in a magazine and on my sport’s national governing body's website, and was asked to model for the provincial body. None of that happened because I stayed careful. It happened because I showed up.

There’s also a more rational fear underneath the irrational one: I live somewhere with decent privacy protections, but I know how fast the internet can turn on you regardless, especially if you’re vocal about anything political. I am staunchly pro-Palestine, specifically, and I have seen someone (an Israeli Jew specifically, mind you) lose a job over nothing more than being photographed in a keffiyeh. That fear is real enough that I’d genuinely rather wait until I’m past probation at my new job in November before I say much of anything provocative online. But waiting for the “safe” moment and just doing the thing are two different strategies, and I’m not sure the safe moment ever actually arrives.

So: I can’t rationalize staying hidden beyond simple comfort, and there’s no growth in comfort. I’m not going to go from zero to posting Substack essays on my personal LinkedIn overnight. But I do have a more public-facing Substack, and that’s my personal project to practice putting myself out there more.