The Cost and Treasure of Speaking Honestly

I posted something on Facebook recently that erupted into what was called a discussion.

If I’m being honest, it didn’t feel like one.
It felt more like a grueling struggle to defend my integrity and character.
It was hurtful. Draining. Challenging. It left me questioning myself.

But here’s the surprising treasure at the end: several people told me I came out looking like the more thoughtful and respectful person. I stayed civil. I avoided personal attacks, even while dodging emotional grenades.

One person suggested I avoid posting things that might rile up hostile commenters with fiery agendas. And it’s true that in recent years, I’ve often avoided writing about anything that could be seen as political, divisive, or controversial. I just haven’t had the capacity or energy to engage.

But this exchange made me realize something important.

As a writer, I can’t be great if I’m unwilling to write about things that challenge, question, and reflect my deeply honest and authentic beliefs. A great writer is bound to make a few enemies, or at least critics.

Here’s the real issue: I don’t mind disagreement. I don’t mind being challenged. In fact, that’s where growth and dialogue live. What I do mind are the personal attacks and insults.

So, I’m giving myself permission to set firm boundaries. If someone wants to debate what I actually wrote, I welcome that. But I won’t engage with those who twist my words, tell me what I should have written, or decide I’m evil for simply putting my thoughts into the world.

My hope, as I continue to better understand myself and how my brain works, is to write pieces that are vulnerable, honest, and deeply engaged. I want to spark discussion. I want to challenge norms and accepted ideas. And I want to do it in a way that leads to something fruitful, not just noise.

Because at the end of the day, the risk of being misunderstood is worth the chance of being truly heard.