Vice Week
After the election, I tried punching back.
It started off small enough.
One little comment and a friendly-ish one at that on a TikTok of a woman doing the Trump dance.
This woman, on TikTok, was doing it in her kitchen.
The day after the election.
The caption read: Now my husband and I will be able to afford eggs and a new house.
Not for even a moment.
My fingers started typing, like they were possessed by some paranormal force.
hi, youre actually wrong about this.
This man and I went back and forth maybe 17 times.
Finally, the original poster commented: Can you take this elsewhere?
I looked up and realized Id been at it for almost two hours.
My 4-year-old was on her third episode ofGabbys Dollhouse.
Id told myself Id take her to a park after one.
A friends response pulled me out of my spiral.
In the middle of a conversation over text, she offhandedly mentioned that I was super active on TikTok.
There was no assigned value, just the observation.
But it was as if shed caught me binge-eating a box of doughnuts.
The shame was palpable.
The election was over.
I wasnt exactly convincing anyone to embrace the light by writing stuff like My apologies youre so stupid.
I blew past a mid-November writing deadline the first Id missed in my almost 20-year career.
I realized that if I found my online posts shameful, I shouldnt be posting them.
I deleted all my videos including the viral one, which didnt not hurt.
I deleted the drafts of the ones still in progress.
(Embarrassing either way.)
I deleted TikTok from my phone.
Three weeks later I re-downloaded it.
I really missed the recipes for high-protein bagels and weeping girls dishing about awful dates.
source: www.bustle.com
