The other day I posted a TikTok about a massive, painful pimple I had on my chin right before the Cannes Film Festival. A cystic volcano, the kind that makes you wince when you talk or smile or turn your head too fast. And since part of my job is to show up in public, be photographed, and feel confident doing it, I went to the dermatologist and got a cortisone shot. It was a quick moment I shared online, mostly in jest, mostly to connect. Because honestly, who hasn’t felt that particular brand of dread when something enormous pops up on your face right before a big event?

Most of the responses were lovely - kind, funny, supportive. But a few comments trickled in calling me out for my “privilege,” telling me I was out of touch. And I’ll be honest, it kind of stopped me in my tracks.

It’s wild how often people feel the need to police others on the internet. Not just public figures, but anyone who dares to share a moment that’s not perfectly aligned with someone else’s idea of what’s “acceptable.” And yes, I know these comments are the exception, not the rule. I know they say more about the person writing them than about me. But what’s going on in our world that makes people want to tear someone down for going to the dermatologist?

So naturally, I made another TikTok. In the caption, I said: “This one’s for the haters who were mad I went to the derm for a pimple shot. You run any marathons to raise money for a children’s hospital lately?” That was me trying to laugh it off. Trying to bring a little levity to the situation. But even that got a response: “You’re missing the point.” Someone even said, “Yes, I have.”

You can’t win. You can try to explain, clarify, make light, and someone will still tell you you’re wrong. And at this point in my life, after a lot of therapy and perspective, I don’t take it personally anymore. I know who I am. I know how I live. I know what I value. And when people come at me like that, I think to myself, how miserable you must be to spend your time like this.

It’s a strange thing, social media. So much of it is connection and laughter and community. But there’s also this undercurrent of posturing. Of people trying to score points by “correcting” others. Of assuming the worst instead of seeing the nuance. And while I’ll never claim to get it all right, I also know I’ve spent my life trying to be kind and to help when I can. To do good where possible.

I’m also well aware of my privilege. I was born into a family that gave me opportunities. I went to good schools. I pursued my passion. I moved to another country to chase a dream. But that doesn’t mean it was easy. There were years I was broke, driving a secondhand station wagon that barely ran, trying to make ends meet. And I’m proud of where I’ve gotten. I’m grateful. I work hard. I’m raising my children with love and intention. I’m doing my best. I don’t want to feel bad for that.

So here’s my promise to myself, and maybe to you, too:

I’m going to keep showing up. I’m going to keep laughing at my pimples, and posting my thoughts, and loving my life. I’ll send light to the people who feel the need to tear others down, because they probably need it more than anyone. But I won’t let them shrink me.

Being unapologetically yourself is a flex. 

C x