Nobody says what they actually think anymore (and it's driving me nuts)

On self-censorship, the Overton window, and the conversations nobody's having

"He who knows only his own side of the case knows little of that."

― John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

A few years ago I published something that scared the shit out of me. I’d been sitting with the idea for a long time, but for the most part, I’d kept it to myself. Until one day, I felt so enraged by the fact that saying something was giving me this level of anxiety. It’s just my thoughts! Why should I feel like I can’t say what I think out loud?! So I posted it, publicly, and then I went to sleep.

By morning I understood, in a way I hadn’t before, exactly what it costs to say something true in the wrong room. I lost friendships over it. Not acquaintances, but real ones, people I’d known for years, people who’d seen me through actual things. They didn’t argue with me or ask what I meant or where the idea came from or whether I’d considered the counterargument. They just quietly recategorized me, and that was that. One opinion, one data point, and suddenly they knew everything they needed to know about who I was. Who I’d been all along. Everything else they knew about me was simply irrelevant.

I want to be honest about how that felt, because I think we tend to describe these experiences in the abstract to avoid admitting how genuinely disorienting they are.