Have you ever read a comment on social media that just rubbed you the wrong way — and suddenly felt the urge to “set them straight”?

Okay, maybe it’s just me. But recently, I had one of those moments.

As most of my friends and family know, I’ve had to change the medication I use to manage my Multiple Sclerosis. And let me tell you, the past month has been a full-blown roller coaster of emotions.

First, I was shocked that my body suddenly decided that the treatment that worked beautifully for twelve years was now on a mission to destroy me. Then came anger — because apparently, I’m not in full control of what this disease decides to do. That’s a tough pill to swallow (no pun intended).

Next was fear — fear that I wouldn’t find another treatment my body would respond to. Fear of a relapse, which has happened every time I’ve had to stop my medication before. Then came the anxiety of trying yet another drug. And just to round things out, I’ve felt all kinds of yucky: nausea, headaches, fatigue, and a generous sprinkle of irritability (but you didn’t hear that from me).

Thankfully, my family has been nothing short of amazing. They’ve cheered me on, shown me compassion, and reminded me that there will be ups and downs — especially as this new medication works to “reset” my immune system.

The tricky part? Extending that same patience and empathy to myself. Turns out, it’s easier to preach grace than to practice it.

Cue the Social Media Incident

So, I joined a Facebook group for people on this same medication — Mavenclad — to learn from others’ experiences. The group had the usual, pretty reasonable rules:

• Be kind – Treat people how you’d want to be treated.
• No bullying or hate speech – Everyone deserves to feel safe.
• No spam or self-promotion – Keep it helpful and on topic.
• Respect privacy – What’s shared in the group, stays in the group.

Simple enough, right?

But here’s the thing: perception is everything. What feels neutral to one person can feel judgmental to another, especially when emotions are running high. Working in an office for years taught me that — I can’t tell you how many “passive-aggressive” emails I read that may or may not have been intended that way.

Social media adds another layer of distance, a kind of cloak of invisibility that can make people a little too bold. I’m not saying everyone’s out to be rude, but sometimes our tone — or our own state of mind — can twist a message into something it wasn’t meant to be.

Of course, there are always a few people who seem to thrive on stirring the pot.

The Comment That Pushed My Buttons

After my first round of treatment, I posted a simple question about nausea — asking if anyone had found ways to manage it besides Gravol. Most people were wonderful, sharing what worked (or didn’t) for them.

But then… that one person

There’s always that one person

She commented that I needed to “toughen up,” that a little nausea wasn’t a big deal, and that I was “fine.”

I tried to let it go, but after a few hours of stewing, I couldn’t. So I replied — calmly but honestly — that her comment came across as condescending and judgmental, and that I wasn’t looking for sympathy.

That’s when she really went off. She said she doesn’t “coddle,” that she puts on her big girl pants and deals with it, and that maybe I should do the same. She said she doesn’t dwell on symptoms, and that if her honesty made her a bad person, so be it.

Well… my halo slipped a little at that point.

I told her, since she values honesty, here’s some of mine: I’ve had MS for a long time, and if anyone asked whether I overanalyze every little symptom, the answer would be a solid no.

I explained that I wasn’t offended by her opinion, just the way it was delivered — that empathy and kindness go a long way.

I reminded her that I wear my “big girl pants” every single day. What I don’t need is a lecture on how to handle my disease. I told her if her goal was to teach me to stop asking “stupid questions” and just suck it up, then mission accomplished.

The Turnaround

And then something surprising happened — we kept talking. With each reply, the tone softened a little. Eventually, we found some common ground. By the end of the day, there was mutual respect, even a bit of understanding.

Am I proud that I let her get under my skin? Not really.

But am I proud that we both walked away having learned something about ourselves — and about each other? Absolutely.

Sometimes, all it takes is a bit of reflection to realize that maybe the mountain we thought we were climbing… was really just a molehill.