Not every burn is the same—but we act like it is.
Some fires warm us. Others scorch. The trick is knowing the difference before everything goes up in smoke.
Not long ago, I posted something personal—a photo from the day the 2017 marriage equality plebiscite result was announced. It was a moment that marked deep relief after years of internalised shame, public scrutiny, and systemic discrimination. A symbolic win, sure, but also a heavy one. Because behind every rainbow flag was a reminder that we had to ask permission to be seen as equal. And that fight didn’t come without scars.
Me, moments after the 2017 marriage equality result dropped. Relief, exhaustion, and decades of buried weight surfacing all at once. This wasn’t just about marriage—it was about being told we had to ask for basic dignity. A win, yes. But also a reckoning.
But somehow, that reflection got hijacked. Not by trolls, but by someone deeply caught in their own story. The topic was suddenly redirected. Instead of talking about institutional harm, we were debating the outrage over a sports commentator's throwaway line—as if both belonged on the same emotional playing field.
And just like that, we weren’t talking about lived harm anymore. We were talking about Marty bloody Sheargold.
The Great Outrage Mix-Up
We’re in an era where outrage is currency. But here’s the thing:
Offense isn’t always harm. Discomfort isn’t always injustice.
We’ve blurred the lines between real structural harm and personal emotional triggers. And worse, we’ve built a culture that treats both as identical—where a crass joke and a national vote on human rights are framed as equal threats.
Let’s not kid ourselves. They’re not.
When I pointed that out—that we should be able to hold consistent standards across different identities and causes—I was accused of being biased. Of defending bigotry. Of silencing pain.
But calling for consistency isn’t silencing anyone. It’s the only way forward.
Real justice means applying the same scrutiny everywhere—not just when it serves our narrative.
Unprocessed Pain Will Find a Stage
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: when we haven’t processed our pain, we look for places to offload it. And social media offers an endless supply of stages.
Sometimes, people are less interested in genuine discussion and more invested in protecting their pain from scrutiny. They project. They shift goalposts. They twist your words into whatever shape justifies their emotional response. Because if they let go of the outrage, they’d have to sit with something deeper: vulnerability.
But here’s the thing: your triggers are yours. That doesn’t mean they’re invalid—it means they’re your responsibility.
When we weaponise our wounds, we don’t heal—we replicate harm in new directions. We become the very thing we claim to be fighting against.
Fuel or Fire? You Decide.
Anger isn’t bad. Outrage isn’t evil. But without awareness, they’re blunt instruments.
Unrefined fire just burns everything.
But refined? Fire is power. Fire is transformation. It’s the forge where truth and integrity are shaped. But you’ve got to be willing to sit in the heat and not flinch. You’ve got to ask yourself:
Is this fire forging me? Or frying me?
It’s easier to yell, point fingers, demand cancellations, and insist everyone feel what you feel. It’s harder to pause and ask, “Why is this setting me off?”
That’s the real work. That’s the SeeTrue work. Debug the trigger. Deprogram the projection. Reboot with integrity.
Real Strength Holds the Heat
We talk a lot about being allies. About advocacy. About safe spaces. But what about brave spaces?
A safe space coddles. A brave space calls you in. It holds the heat. It challenges. It dares to make you uncomfortable—not to hurt you, but to grow you.
Growth doesn’t come from echo chambers. And justice doesn’t come from selective standards.
It comes from consistency. From courage. From calling out the real shit without fear of offending someone’s curated identity politics.
Because equality isn’t just about rights. It’s about responsibility.
And real resilience? That’s not a gendered trait. It’s universal. And it’s earned.
Final Words:
If your cause can’t survive consistent standards, it was never justice.
It was just vengeance in drag.
Let the fire burn—but let it burn through what needs to go. Not the people trying to make sense of it all.