It’s a terribly toxic world we’re living in now, don’t you think? Decades ago, before the rise of the internet and social media, our worlds were smaller. More contained. They existed within the circles we moved in, the people we actually knew. Now, it’s different. Everything is exposed. Everyone acts like they know everyone, if not through the word of mouth, then through a screen. We convince ourselves that we know someone just by looking at their social profiles often enough. We analyze their feeds, their likes, their comments, believing we understand who they are. Without realizing it, our minds start constructing entire personalities out of curated fragments. And once that narrative forms, it’s really hard to undo. You can see this happening with public figures as well, like Hailey Bieber, and countless others who become targets of collective judgment they didn’t necessarily earn. In this kind of environment, remaining graceful, composed and at peace feels almost…impossible. The reason I’m actually writing this is because I’m tired. Maybe I’m getting too old for this. Or maybe I’ve simply had my fair share of being talked about, of having my name passed around in conversations I was never part of. But I’ve come to realize that this is something that needs to be said: it’s not right to speak on someone you’ve never made the effort to truly know. And it’s even worse when that judgement persists—even after you do know them. But you know what stings the most? Being on the other end of it. Being judged ruthlessly, both behind your back and to your face, while knowing that what’s being said isn’t true. And no matter what you do, no matter how you explain yourself, it’s like people have already decided that’s who you are. They’re not going to listen, so they’re going to hyper-analyze all your flaws just to confirm their judgment. And maybe, maybe it’s not a coincidence that this tends to happen more often to women who are known to be beautiful, charismatic and hard to ignore. So yes…wink, wink. Naturally, when we hear people say hurtful things about us—things that are built on secondhand stories from people who barely knew us, or worse, assumptions drawn from social media—the first reaction would always be anger. And it makes sense. There’s something deeply unsettling about being accused of something you didn’t do. Something so far removed from your character that it feels almost absurd. Your instinct would always be to defend yourself, to correct the narrative, set the record straight. Because how could you not? When something so untrue is being said about you, silence simply feels like surrender. But anger doesn’t come alone. There’s sadness, too. A quieter, heavier kind that weighs down your soul. The kind that settles in when you realize that not everyone, especially those close to you, will question what they hear. And even when someone does try to defend you, it rarely changes anything. Not really. Because here’s the awful truth: once people have decided who you are, they’re no longer listening to understand, they’re only listening to confirm. That’s the hardest part. Not just the rumors themselves, but the helplessness that comes with them. Watching your character be shaped by voices that were never close enough to know you in the first place. Realizing that, for some people, the version of you they’ve created will always feel more convincing than the truth. There’s a particular kind of exhaustion that follows with this realization. The kind that doesn’t come from fighting back, but from understanding that sometimes, there’s simply nothing left to fight.
So what should we do?Not everything deserves a response. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is remain composed, intentional in your silence, steady in who you are. Let it be noise. Background static, even. Something that exists, but doesn’t get access to you. Focus instead on your work, your people, your peace—much like Hailey Bieber did at the height of the scrutiny around her name and the brand she built. That doesn’t mean it’s easy. There will be days when it gets under your skin, when the urge to correct, to defend, to say something feels almost unbearable. And in those moments, what makes the difference isn’t willpower alone, but proximity. Who you allow close to you. The kind of voices you choose to keep within reach. Because when you’re grounded in the right support system, the noise loses its weight. Slowly, almost quietly, it will begin to fall away. At least this is what I’ve seen and learned, having lived through it all for a long time.I grew up in a rather competitive environment, so there was always something being said, speculated or judged. And more often than not, it wasn’t accurate. I remember constantly trying to defend myself, trying to explain, only to realize that some people had simply made up their minds. That they will always believe what they think is right, than what was true. And if something like that can happen to a kid, through the years when you’re still figuring out who you are, then it will follow you towards your adulthood. Into your friendships, your workplaces, into every space where perception can be mistaken for truth. Especially in the age of social media. At some point, you also have to confront an uncomfortable reality: that we’ve all, in some way, been part of that cycle. Maybe not intentionally, maybe not maliciously, but we’ve listened, assumed, passed something along without questioning it deeply as well. Still, that doesn’t mean we continue it. Being constantly misunderstood, having our name slandered through the media or simply within our social circles, doesn’t give us permission to do the same to others. It doesn’t justify becoming bitter or waiting for a chance to retaliate. It simply gives us a choice: to step out of the pattern, or to repeat it. And that’s where peace actually begins. Not in proving everyone wrong, but in no longer needing to. As Hailey Bieber once put it: “All good on apologies. The therapy’s already paid for. Save it!” There’s something quietly powerful in that kind of detachment, you know? In choosing to invest your energy towards what matters, rather than into the narratives that you were never meant to control. Because when you focus on what’s real, what’s yours…everything else will eventually fade into what it always was: Noise. Sincerely, Cherie. The Whiffler is free today. But if you enjoyed this post, you can tell The Whiffler that their writing is valuable by pledging a future subscription. You won't be charged unless they enable payments.
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