Someone I hadn't spoken to in years messaged me recently. She'd seen a 30-second video I posted. A clip of my kids mucking around, both laughing. And in that 30 seconds, she decided she knew exactly what was happening in my home. She sent me a verdict.

She sent me a verdict, so I blocked her. Then I sat with the anger and hurt, because that part mattered more than her message.
Here's what I came back to: the problem wasn't just her message. It was the absolute certainty she delivered it with. No context, no question, just a conclusion. Based on a fragment. From someone who hasn't been in my life for years.
That's not discernment. That's projection.
This isn’t a story about social media. It’s a story about projection and what happens when someone mistakes their history for your reality.
Psychological projection is the process of seeing in others what we can't or won't see in ourselves. Freud first described it as a defence mechanism, a way of externalising the feelings or fears we find too uncomfortable to own. But modern cognitive psychology has expanded on this considerably.
Research on social projection shows that people tend to assume others are similar to themselves. We use our own emotional state as a reference point for interpreting everything around us. If someone has lived through something painful, they're more likely to see that pattern reflected back at them from the world. Whether it's there or not.
It's not always malicious. In fact, I'd dare to say that's rarely the case.
And that's actually the harder part to sit with. Sometimes people project because they genuinely care and they can't separate what they've experienced from what they're observing. Their history colours the lens. And the filter is invisible to them.
Projected perception feels true to the person doing it because it comes from their lived experience. It feels violating to the person receiving it because it erases theirs.
One piece of research puts it plainly: the things that irritate or alarm us most about others are often more revealing about our own anxieties than about the people we're observing.
Studies on snap judgments in digital spaces show that people make fast, context-free assessments based on very small amounts of information. Social media makes this worse, not better. We're scanning constantly, pattern-matching against what we already believe, and our brains fill the gaps with assumptions because the brain loves shortcuts. But emotional nuance is never a shortcut. It’s context, and context is exactly what social media strips away
A 30-second video is not a case file. A handful of Instagram stories or a post you spontaneously share because you yourself are 'in the moment', is not a window into someone's life. It's a curated fragment, or in my case, a completely candid and joyful moment that someone else ran through their own filter and arrived at a completely different conclusion.
This is confirmation bias at work. The brain already holds a framework, and it seeks evidence that supports it. Contradictory information, like the laughter clearly audible in the video, gets filtered out. What remains is the conclusion that already felt true.
Being misread is one thing. Being misread publicly, by someone who delivers the misread as fact, is another. And being misread about something you're already holding carefully and consciously? That's the part that lands hardest.
The anger isn't just about the message. It's about the erasure of everything that isn't visible. The conversations you've had. The boundaries you've set. The way you've shown up repeatedly in the hard moments. None of that exists in a 30-second clip. None of it was asked about.
Being misread hurts because it threatens the part of you that’s working the hardest.
You can know, clearly, that someone's perception is wrong and still feel the impact of it. That's not weakness. That's being human.
I'm writing this from experience, not theory. The situation that sparked this post was mine. And my first response was anger followed quickly by hurt. My second was to actually sit with why it hit so hard. Because that's the work, isn't it. Not just reacting, but getting curious about the reaction.
I checked in with all parties involved after I'd started to doubt the experience. Had genuinely serious conversations with everyone about what was observed and what actually happened. I asked the honest questions and I listened to the answers. I examined whether any part of what was said touched something I was already quietly aware of. And I got clear, genuinely clear, on what was projection and what was worth examining.
This is emotional maturity in practice. Not bypassing the anger, not collapsing under it, but using it as data.
Both things can be true at once. You can know someone has gotten you completely wrong AND use the charge of that to look at yourself honestly. That's not weakness, an admittance of guilt or wrongdoing. That's what this work actually looks like in real life. It's the thing I don't see talked about enough: that emotional intelligence isn't just about staying calm. It's about being willing to look at yourself even when you're the one who's been wronged.
I blocked her. Not in a panic, not to avoid hard things, but because she isn't in my life and I don't owe her access to it. Blocking isn’t dramatic. It’s administrative - a simple decision about where your energy goes. Keeping people in your orbit simply to manage their perception of you is a specific kind of exhaustion. And it's optional.
You're never obligated to defend yourself to everyone who forms an opinion. You're not required to issue a corrections statement every time someone misreads a moment. Some people's perceptions of you simply aren't your responsibility to manage.
That's not avoidance. That's a boundary with a clear rationale behind it.
1. Check yourself honestly. For your own sake. Sometimes anger points to something you already knew but hadn’t named.
2. Remember that certainty is not evidence. A confident wrong assumption is still wrong.
3. Choose your next step deliberately. Respond, ignore, or close the door. None require you to justify your life.
The 30-second clip was a good moment. Both kids laughing. Me laughing with them. It was a rare, beautiful moment that warmed my heart. That's the whole story of that night. Someone else's history or perception doesn't get to rewrite it.
If other people’s judgments flatten you, or if your reactions feel bigger than the moment and linger to the point they are not healthy, that’s not a flaw; it’s a signal. And it’s worth understanding. Start with this post on why your inner critic won’t stop, or explore more about how I work with women who want emotional steadiness that actually lasts.