The Cost of Keyboard Courage

This week I’ve found myself questioning something I never thought I would have to question so deeply, has society really slipped this far?

In the work I do, I sit with people, communities, and stories that carry weight most will never see. And yet even here, even in spaces built on empathy and connection, I’ve received calls and messages that have genuinely made me stop and think.

Not because I’m fragile, (well I am a bit at the moment) But because of what they represent.

Keyboard warriors. Faceless opinions. Trolling disguised as “just saying what I think.”
A growing ease with tearing others down without ever having to sit in the consequences of it.

And I keep coming back to the same question, where do people get off doing this?

Do they understand the impact of what they’re saying?
Do they understand the mental load they are placing on another human being?
Do they understand that behind every post, every name, every story, there is a person?

It doesn’t matter if it’s directed at a rural community, a sporting identity, a public figure, or someone who simply doesn’t align with your beliefs. The outcome is the same. Damage is done.

And we cannot keep pretending it isn’t.

We talk a lot about mental health. We post about the initiatives, we share the awareness days, we say “be kind.” And yet in the same breath, online spaces are still being used as weapons instead of tools for connection.

We are now at a point where words typed behind a screen can sit heavy enough to make someone question their worth, their safety, even their will to keep going.

I need those faceless people to really consider something, if something catastrophic happens as a result of your words, are you prepared to carry that with you?

Because that is the reality of what we are talking about.

The timing of this sits heavy alongside movements like Do It For Dolly Day, a reminder that bullying, particularly online bullying, is not harmless. It is not banter. It is not “just the internet.”

It is real. It lands in real homes. On real minds. In real silence when the phone is put down and the person is left sitting with it alone.

Kindness is not weakness. Empathy is not optional. Compassion is not selective.

And those who continue to hide behind screens while tearing others down need to have a long, hard look at themselves.

Because at some point, we have to ask, what kind of community are we actually building here?