Over the last few weeks I’ve found myself growing increasingly discomforted by the nature of Twitter-based activism, and the way its system is designed to reward behavior that inspires sensation through engagement. I’d like to share my story, if you’ll forgive the length.

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Once upon a time, when I was still a baby Twitter feminist, I was quickly taken by the fast and loud approach, wielding feminist anger as a sword to take down bigots in varying intersectional ways. I followed accounts that were popular, learning the finer points of activism

2/15

as I eventually stepped from a strictly trans-rights movement to a broader span of feminism that fought for all women, everywhere. I learned the history of feminism and feminists, the ways they’d grown, the missteps they’d made, and the details of their activism.

3/15

From these accounts, I also learned their methods. I learned the satisfaction of crushing someone in a callout; of driving racists and misogynists from their perches with clever barbs and vicious wordplay. I’d found role models in feminism, and in that, a sense of belonging

4/15

What I didn’t immediately learn was how easily these tactics can be turned on allies. On other feminists. On people who were not the usual bad-faith bigots, but a well meaning peer who missteps or needs to grow. On activists who may have been right, that perhaps we

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could have learned from. But It felt GOOD to prove someone wrong and to drive a point home in ways that encouraged engagement from my followers. It was a fast track to being followed by more, and with that, a thrill of DOING something. But it has cost me deeply.

6/15

You see, I learned how to fight to destroy, thinking that in crushing the opposition, I was Doing the Right Thing. I had lost sight of WHY we fight. Winning and defending my friends became paramount, never mind the damage done anywhere else.

7/15

There was no good faith dialogue to be had, no aim for understanding or growth. They were wrong and we were right, and to hell with anyone who couldn’t see it.

And so naturally, the next thing I knew, an entire wing of feminists, several of whom I had admired,

8/15

pulled away from us. The community had yet another rift. At the time, it was easy to write it off how “they didn’t have nuance.” How easily we ignore our own similar failings. I stuck to my friends, and the other group stuck to theirs, and

9/15

the myriad mutuals between continued to follow everyone, if perhaps embarrassed for us all.

It’s taken me so long to realize where I’d gotten. This wasn’t who I wanted to be.

10/15

All anger and fury, shouting on the internet to fight bigotry in ways that felt good, looked great, and ultimately changed nothing. I was angry. I’m still angry. Furious over the strata of injustices plaguing society.

11/15

But was I effective? Was I making the world better with that anger? We’re so quick to leap to a fight. When we’re misunderstood, we slam back and demolish them where we could simply clarify a point. We attribute every small sleight to the most problematic motivation we can

12/15

We leave no room for missteps, and assume the worst each and every time. And we hurt our causes for it.

I regret the damage I’ve helped to do to the feminist movement. I’ll never stop regretting it. But I want to do better.

13/15

I want to foster an environment in which we can engage in disagreement without fearing that every syllable will be combed for an attack angle. I want the opportunity to change a perspective, or to have my own be changed.

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I want what I’m doing here to improve the world, even if just a tiny bit.

I appreciate anyone who read through all of that. This isn’t a subtweet for anyone specific but if it resonates with you, please know that I believe we all have room to grow, and that I support you

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