When the Internet Decides Who You Are

The painful side of going viral... and why I still believe in growth, nuance, and showing up anyway.

A few days ago, I posted a video about something I feel strongly about…the balance between work ethic and work-life balance. I shared what shaped me, what I believe, and how those beliefs have guided the way I live and work.

I’m a millennial. I grew up in a culture where “hard work pays off” wasn’t just a phrase... it was a promise. We were told that if you show up, put in the hours, and give something your all, it will eventually pay dividends. And in many ways, it did. But as I’ve grown, and as the world has changed, I’ve also come to understand how essential boundaries are... how mental health and sustainability matter... how working with your life is just as important as working hard.

That’s the nuance I was trying to speak to. That two truths can coexist. That we can honor ambition and protect our peace.

And at first, people seemed to get it. The video picked up traction. Comments poured in from people who felt seen… from those who had also struggled to navigate the tension between wanting to succeed and wanting to slow down. I felt connected. Validated. Maybe even helpful.

Then, almost overnight, everything shifted.

A response video was made. It took a different view….which is completely fair. Disagreement isn’t something I’m afraid of... it’s how we learn, it’s how we challenge each other, it’s how we grow. But what happened next wasn’t about dialogue. It wasn’t about healthy debate. It turned into something much darker.

People I’ve never met began to decide who I was based on a few seconds of footage. They labeled me. Dismissed me. Assumed the worst. They took one post and turned it into a character judgment. And suddenly I was at the center of a storm I never saw coming.

If you’ve never experienced the internet turning on you, here’s what it feels like:
It feels like being misquoted in a room of thousands with no microphone to clarify.
It feels like screaming into a void, knowing most people have already made up their minds.

It feels like being reduced to your most imperfect moment... with no room for context, evolution, or humanity.

And that’s the hardest part. Because I am human.
I’ve made mistakes.
I’ve gotten things wrong.
And I’ve worked….quietly, intentionally, for years…. to grow from those mistakes. To listen. To change. To lead better.

That doesn’t fit neatly into a 30-second TikTok.

But it’s real.

I’m incredibly proud of the company I’ve built. I’m proud of the people I’ve hired, mentored, and grown alongside. I’m proud of how far we’ve come… not just in what we’ve created, but in how we’ve evolved behind the scenes. It hasn’t always been perfect... but it has always been intentional.

This moment has forced me to sit with a lot…. the discomfort of being misunderstood, the pain of watching people reduce my identity to a viral soundbite, the reality that no matter how far you’ve come, some people will still only see where you started.

But I’m also sitting with something else: gratitude.

Gratitude for the people who reached out… privately or publicly… to say, “I know your heart.”
Gratitude for the community who reminded me that one video doesn’t define a whole person.
Gratitude for the pain, even, because pain stretches us... and if we let it, it refines us.

Here’s what I want to say now… with clarity and care:

I still believe in hard work.
I still believe in rest.
I still believe two truths can be true at once.
And I believe, above all else, that we should allow each other room to grow.

So if you’ve been here for a while…. thank you.
If you’re just finding me now… I hope you’ll take the time to see the full picture.
And if you disagree with me… that’s okay too. But I hope we can disagree with grace.

Because the truth is... I’m not here to be perfect. I’m here to keep learning.
And I hope in some way we all are.

With heart,

LC