Editing The Year I Unlearned Everything (section)

= The Day I Sent a Message That Wasn’t a Meme =

Okay, can we talk about the quietest victory of my entire year? The one that felt like whispering into a void and then hearing a whisper back?  

For most of my 26 years, I’d been a ghost in the digital crowd. I’d scroll past people’s posts—like, *oh, cool, they’re hiking!*—and never think to say, *I’ve been wanting to hike that trail too.* I’d let the fear of seeming “too much” or “weird” (like, *who even does that?*) keep me silent. I’d built a whole life of observing connection without joining it, convinced that real talk was for people who weren’t as anxious as me.  

Then, last week, I saw a post from someone I’d followed for months—just a photo of their cat napping on a bookshelf. It was mundane. Perfect. I typed: *Your cat’s wearing a tiny sweater. I’m now 100% convinced cats are secretly tiny humans.*  

I hit send. My heart did a little flip-flop. *Too much?* I thought. *They’ll think I’m a weirdo.*  

They replied within 10 minutes: *Right?! I call him Sir Fluffington. He judges all my life choices.*  

That’s it. Just two sentences. But it was a bridge. A tiny, real one.  

This might sound weird, but it mattered because it proved something I’d forgotten: connection isn’t about grand gestures. It’s about showing up as your slightly awkward, meme-loving self. And it’s okay if it’s small.  

I’ve DMed with strangers who became my closest friends. But this? This was the first time I *didn’t* overthink it. I just… said something true. And it was enough.  

It didn’t fix my loneliness. But it reminded me I’m not invisible. I’m just learning how to be seen.  

*— Hannah Berg*