Not Everyone with a Mic is Making Sense

So, I've seen my folks everywhere already doing their 2025 recaps, everyone talking about the lessons they learned, the growth they experienced, the versions of themselves they left behind. To be part of the herd, there's a ton of things I've learned too, but today, here's only one thing I want to say, and I hope it lands.

Sometimes, social media, yes, including Substack, I said it, is not the best place to take advice. Or to use as a measuring tape for your life. Or your progress. It is someplace I would call a madhouse, a carnival of certainty where everyone's selling something and pretending they're giving it away for free.

Because all it takes, really, is a wireless mic, a phone with clean camera quality, one ring light, two houseplants strategically placed in the background, and someone who knows how to pause dramatically in between sentences, and suddenly they're a guru. A thought leader. A life coach with ten thousand followers who've never questioned whether this person has actually lived the wisdom they're selling.

They start yapping and you're there at 2 AM, scrolling, questioning your life, doubting your choices, feeling like you're the problem, like you're the one who's been doing everything wrong. Just because someone sounds confident. Or they dress the part, all neutral tones and minimalist jewelry. Or they say "vocabulary" with a British accent that makes everything sound more intelligent than it actually is. That doesn't mean they're right. That doesn't mean they're talking to you. That doesn't mean their advice, however beautifully packaged, has anything to do with your actual life.

Let me break it down, because I've been on both sides of this. I've been the person absorbing everything, taking notes, screenshotting quotes, building my entire personality around things other people said. And I've also been the person who finally woke up and realized I'd been living someone else's life, following someone else's blueprint, measuring my progress against someone else's timeline.

On one side of the internet, someone says protect your peace. They say don't chase anyone. They say if a friend isn't matching your energy, if they're not reciprocating your effort, walk away slowly and keep your head high. Set boundaries. Know your worth. Stop watering dead plants. And maybe you hear that and it resonates. Maybe it sounds fair. Maybe you've been exhausted from friendships that feel one-sided and this gives you permission to finally let go.

But on another side of the internet, someone else is saying friendship is not transactional. That if you truly care, you'd know people are going through things they can't always explain. That love shows up by staying, by checking in even when they don't respond, by not giving up on people when they're going through seasons where they can't be what you need them to be. And that sounds right too. That sounds compassionate. That sounds like the kind of person you want to be.

So what now? What happens when both sides make perfect sense? When both pieces of advice feel true, feel applicable, feel like exactly what you needed to hear?

You see, that's the thing. The internet is not a compass. It's a collection of voices, all shouting in different directions, all convinced they've found north. And just because someone says it nicely, just because it rhymes, just because it's captioned in italics with a Sufjan Stevens song playing behind it doesn't mean it's what you need. Just because it got ten thousand likes doesn't mean it's a universal truth. Just because everyone in the comments is saying "I needed this today" doesn't mean you needed it.

I'm not saying don't listen. I'm saying don't absorb everything without filtering. Don't turn every quote into your gospel. Don't let someone's well-lit content gaslight your raw reality. Don't let someone who doesn't know you, doesn't know your situation, doesn't know the context of your life, convince you that you're doing everything wrong.

Because maybe, actually, your own truth is somewhere in between. Maybe you're not ready to cut people off. Maybe you're not called to be endlessly available either. Maybe your version of growth looks different from the aesthetic minimalist journey everyone's posting about. Maybe your healing doesn't come with a mood board. Maybe your journey isn't loud or documentable or packageable into ten slides. And you're figuring it out, messily, quietly, in ways that won't get engagement, and that's valid too.

This was mostly inspired by the fact that I experienced this firsthand on Twitter one particular day. I was procrastinating, of course, scrolling when I should have been studying, and I saw one post that had gone viral. It was advocating for protecting your peace, cutting off friends who don't reply to your messages, letting go of people who aren't matching your energy. The language wasn't brutal or direct. It was actually quite gentle, wrapped in care-speak and self-love rhetoric. But the message was clear: if they're not showing up, if they're not reciprocating, walk away. You deserve better. Don't settle for breadcrumbs. Know your worth.

And I read it and thought, "That makes sense." I even screenshot it. I have friends who don't reply for weeks. I have people in my life who I pour into and get nothing back. Maybe I should let them go. Maybe I'm being stupid for holding on.

Then, maybe an hour later, still scrolling because apparently I had no self-control that day, I saw another post saying the complete opposite. Not all bridges should be burned. Not everything has to be transactional. Maybe that friend isn't replying because they're going through something they can't explain. Depression doesn't always announce itself. Anxiety doesn't always look like what you think it looks like. Maybe instead of cutting people off at the first sign of distance, we should give them the benefit of the doubt and actually ask what's going on. Maybe real friendship means staying even when it's not convenient.

And I read that and thought, "That makes sense too." And I felt stupid for screenshotting the first post. But also confused because both things sounded right. Both things sounded wise. Both things were presented convincingly by people who seemed to have their lives together, who spoke with authority, who had profile pictures where they looked peaceful and centered.

Both posts made sense. Both were beautifully written. And that's when it hit me: you can read two completely contradictory opinions, and because of how they're packaged, how they're presented, how confidently they're stated, both can sound wise. Both can make you think they have the answer. Both can make you doubt yourself.

But here's what I've learned as 2025 hasn't come to an end yet, here's what this year has beaten into me through experience: you need to have a mind of your own. In real life and online. You need to be able to filter what you absorb, the information you follow, the advice you take. You need to develop discernment, which is just a fancy word for knowing what applies to you and what doesn't.

Because the funny thing, the tragic thing, about our generation is how quickly we burn bridges at the slightest opportunity. Someone disappoints us once and we're done. Someone doesn't text back fast enough and we're cutting them off. Someone has a different opinion and suddenly they're toxic and we need to protect our peace by removing them from our lives.

And if you're not careful, if you're not paying attention, someone else's lifestyle can become yours without you even noticing. Their quick decisions, their clean cuts, their way of handling relationships, it all starts to feel normal. It all starts to feel like this is just how things are done now, how modern friendship works, how you're supposed to navigate human relationships in 2025.

You start seeing everything through the lens of "Is this serving me? Is this adding value? Is this aligned with my energy?" And those aren't bad questions. But when everything becomes transactional, when every relationship is measured by what you're getting out of it, when every interaction is evaluated for its ROI, you end up alone. You end up having cut off everyone who ever disappointed you, who ever went through a hard season, who ever failed to show up exactly how you needed them to.

It's good to protect your peace. I'm not saying be a doormat. I'm not saying accept disrespect or stay in harmful situations. But don't forget that the internet is what it is, a performance space where everyone's showing you their highlights and their hot takes but not their full humanity. Be careful with the information you absorb and the advice you take.

Use your brain. Actually use it. Assess the situation. Your specific situation, not the generic situation the person on your screen is talking about. Ask yourself if the advice is really worth taking, if it actually applies to your life, or if you're just drawn to it because the person has a good command of English and makes it sound profound.

Because I've noticed something. I've noticed that people will take advice from anyone who sounds intelligent, anyone who speaks confidently, anyone who packages their opinions in aesthetic fonts and calming color palettes. It doesn't matter if the advice is good. It doesn't matter if it's applicable. It doesn't even matter if the person giving it has any credentials or lived experience. All that matters is how it sounds.

There are countless pieces of advice out there. Thousands of people telling you how to live, how to love, how to work, how to heal, how to grow, how to be. And most of them mean well. Most of them are just sharing what worked for them. But what worked for them might destroy you. What healed them might wound you. What set them free might trap you.

You have to look at your own situation and come to your own conclusion about what you want to do. Don't follow something just because it makes sense in the abstract or because the person saying it sounds intelligent or because it got shared fifty thousand times. Follow it because you've actually thought about it, because you've weighed it against your own experience, because it resonates with something true in your own life.

At the end of the day, it's not about who speaks the loudest or the softest. It's not about whose voice is clearer or whose content looks better or who has more followers or whose reel went viral. It's about you. About what you know to be true when your phone is off and the room is quiet. About what actually makes sense for your life, your relationships, your circumstances, your values.

Two people can say two completely different things with their whole chest. Both can sound wise. Both can be presented beautifully. Both can have compelling arguments and emotional testimonies and comment sections full of people saying it changed their life. But your job is not to pick who sounds smarter or more convincing. Your job is not to follow whoever has better production value.

Your job is to sit with yourself and ask: what feels like peace? What feels like pressure? What actually applies to my life and my relationships? What's wisdom and what's just well-packaged opinion? What's genuine advice and what's content strategy disguised as care?

Because everyone's talking. Everyone has a platform now. Everyone has advice. Everyone has a take. But not everyone's making sense. Not everyone knows what they're talking about. Not everyone's lived long enough or deeply enough to be giving life advice to thousands of people. And definitely not everyone understands your specific situation enough to tell you what you should do.

The difference between listening and absorbing could be the difference between living your life and living someone else's content strategy. The difference between considering advice and adopting it wholesale could be the difference between growth and performance. The difference between thinking for yourself and outsourcing your thinking to the internet could be the difference between being yourself and being whoever the algorithm thinks you should be.

Maybe your truth is somewhere in between all the advice. Maybe you need to protect your peace sometimes and extend grace other times. Maybe you need to set boundaries with some people and be patient with others. Maybe you need to walk away from some situations and fight for others. Maybe the answer isn't one-size-fits-all. Maybe wisdom isn't binary.

Maybe you're figuring it out as you go, learning from your own mistakes instead of trying to avoid all mistakes by following someone else's formula. And maybe that's not just okay. Maybe that's exactly where you're supposed to be. Maybe that's what growth actually looks like when it's not being performed for an audience.

So as 2025 winds down and everyone's posting their lessons and their wisdom and their growth, here's one of mine because the others are still coming: not everyone with a mic is making sense. Not everyone with a platform deserves your attention. Not everyone speaking confidently actually knows what they're talking about.

And you don't have to figure everything out by consuming more content. Sometimes the answer is to close the app, sit with yourself, and remember that you have a brain, you have experience, you have intuition, you have wisdom of your own that doesn't need external validation.

Everyone's talking. But you don't have to listen to everyone. You just have to listen to yourself. And in my opinion, just an opinion! That's the only voice that actually matters.