Please shut the fuck up about your problems in my DMs
People who use Russia's war to get me to accept their requests are AWFUL
For the first time since starting this project in 2020, I am considering shutting it down. I’m also considering shutting down my Twitter (especially drastic as the group chats there are important too me) and my work Instagram.
I am exhausted. I am so fucking EXHAUSTED by the strange men who are constantly complaining about their lives in my DMs.
Before I go any further, I need to admit that yes — this is a problem at least partially of my own making. I can accept a DM request easily (I used to be a reporter, after all), especially if it has to do with questions about fundraising for Ukraine (more on how that’s been used against me in a minute).
Consider that I still accept only a small percentage of DMs. The fact that it’s been enough to drive me crazy can give you a hint as to the entitlement I deal with.
I built a “brand” on approachability and I love getting feedback on my work, so I will regularly respond to messages related to it, which gives people the wrong idea (not my fault, but it’s far too easy for it to happen).
I also value random connections. I’ve built amazing friendships and have been offered incredible opportunities due to my visibility on social media. I also know that kindness from a stranger can go a long way. But real friendship, and real connections, are always a two-way street. And kindness and openness can be abused by people who don’t see it that way.
Finally, I rely on publicity and word of mouth to get work done, which includes work to supply friends in Ukraine which much-needed equipment. The fact that some people have used a genocidal war to get close to me in order to vent their frustrations is awful.
I need to point out that I’m not talking about my friends. I have various male friends, who are cool and normal. These are STRANGERS, to be clear.
You’re thinking these are paid subscribers who feel entitled to my time, right? Wrong. I know this, because over the past few days, I’ve been cross-referencing my paid subscriber base with the social media profiles of the strange men who won’t stop DMing me — thank God that cross-referencing is something I am good at — most of whom are married, by the way.
People who pay for my content are not the ones spamming me. In fact, there’s a strong correlation between paid subscribers and those who respect my time and my boundaries. Which is a big reason why it kills me to even consider shutting this project down.
This is the internet, it should be easy to block these guys, right? It hasn’t been as easy as I’ve wanted. I’ve blocked and restricted a number of men on my work Instagram, for example, only for them to immediately show up elsewhere. Usually while saying angry things. The added stress of this is something I’ve only recently begun to unpack.
It’s true that these dudes have problems. I felt bad for a number of them. But I am resentful of how they attempt to eat my time instead of paying a professional. Again, remember, they can’t be bothered too cough up a measly $5 a month for a subscription here. They don’t value ME, they value the opportunity to dump their issues on a random human being.
Not all of these men have hit on me, but the majority do. It feels very sleazy when it turns out that they’re married. They don’t do it because they want a relationship with me. Most don’t even want sex. They want validation. They demand it. I have grown to absolutely loathe them for it.
A lot has been written on parasocial relationships by smart, capable people. I am not here to do that. I am here to say that this situation is unsustainable. IT IS DRIVING ME BANANAS.
Something truly broke inside of me when I looked at some of my DMs on Twitter and Instagram after publishing this piece on “nice guys” and “alpha males.” The responses from some of these men made me want to hurl my phone out of the window and move to Fiji under an assumed identity. One guy wrote eight paragraphs of whiny drivel. Eight. Fucking. Paragraphs. This same guy had previously contacted me to ask for advice about Ukrainian charities, and of course I helped out! My desire to help out was used against me.
The only correct response is blocking, muting, and restricting, and I’ve been doing that, but I also felt the need to say something publicly. This isn’t right. I’m not even a famous person. Imagine how actual famous people must feel.
I believe we do have a loneliness epidemic, and that it’s dangerous. In fact, I think growing loneliness is a national security issue, and I will absolutely die on this hill (and have a bigger piece about it that I’m working on). Spamming women you’ve never met is not a way out.
I know loneliness. I was a lonely child. For many years afterwards, loneliness receded from my life, only to roar back with the full-scale invasion of my native Ukraine. It’s a heavy burden, though I’m one of the lucky once. I haven’t always borne this tragedy with grace, as close friends can attest. I still don’t fucking take it out on random strangers who try to be helpful to me. Like, what the fuck.
If you, God forbid, recognize yourself in this screed, and your impulse is to start typing yet another message to me — FUCKING STOP. Look at yourself. Your inability to shut the fuck up is affecting another person’s sanity. This is literally you:
I work every day. I work at being a good parent, I write what I can only hope is a useful newsletter, I have a lot of other work which I don’t talk about, and which I know it’s good and right. Good and right can also be fucking exhausting. And then come the trolls. And then there you are, whining in my fucking DMs.
Having readers is one of the great privileges of my life. Talking to my readers is also a privilege. A small group of sniveling manchildren spoiling that feels so unfair. The manchildren somehow think they’re special. They truly act like they’re the only ones. SOME WILL LITERALLY E-MAIL AFTER I BLOCK THEM.
I got so angry yesterday that I needed a long walk to clear my head. My son and I ate ice cream, we listened to drunk St. Patrick’s day revelers sing (surprisingly good) renditions of Taylor Swift songs, we walked by the river, we watched a brilliant March sunset unfurl in the skies. This was real. The wind in my hair. My son’s jokes. Then, a friend called, and I picked up, and then I realized I had another one of those DMs. I hadn’t blocked anyone so fast in my life.
I am grateful to all of you who are paid subscribers. If you’re not a paying subscriber, but you find my work meaningful and respect my boundaries, I am grateful to you too. I am sorry that I had to write this. I am tired, and it’s been a long war.
I hope, truly, you don’t hang it up because you’re such a valuable and insightful voice, but I’d not blame you for a moment if you did.
So saddened to read this. It did get me off my duff to actually subscribe, so not a complete waste. <smile>