The Real Impact of Online Bullying

I have encountered many faces online, faces masked by usernames and hidden behind emojis. Some spread light and kindness, but others bask in the destruction of others. They don’t just point fingers at the guilty; they go further, tearing down the weak, mocking flaws, laughing at pain. They cheer when someone stumbles because of a silly mistake.

What is terrifying isn’t just their cruelty; it’s their numbness. When reminded there’s a living, breathing human behind the screen, they shrug. “She should’ve known better.” “He had it too easy.” “Who cares? Let him burn.” Their responses drip with apathy, cloaked in fake justice or sarcasm. They become spectators of suffering, feeding off the fall of others without an ounce of mercy.

It makes me pause and ask myself: if I ever find myself that broken, that exposed, will I survive the same crowd? Will I be expected to be as strong as they demand I should have been? What happens when I become the headline, the meme, the object of hashtags and hot takes?

For now, I am grateful. I am surrounded by a small circle of warmth, offline, where grace still lives. And if you’re lucky to have that too, don’t take it for granted. If the internet starts to bleed you dry, leave. Mute the chaos. Step back. Flee from the digital mob when their fangs draw near. Breathe. Be still.

No one is made of steel, not when they’re at their lowest. Words cut. Words can break beyond repair. And when someone finally sinks beneath the weight of it all, don’t pretend to be shocked. If you pushed them, mocked them, shamed them, you played your part. Maybe you're not the one holding the knife, but your applause helped it land deeper.

So hold on to the good ones. The ones who shield, not shame. The ones who offer shelter, not stones. In a world that finds entertainment in others' ruin, love becomes a rare and urgent thing. Protect it. Be it.