I was scared by social media - just scared of what I might

The artist Juliette Lewis, whose life has bridged the worlds of film, music, and rebellion, once said: “I was scared by social media — just scared of what I might attract. Once I broke onto that thing, because I needed it for my band to tell people about shows, I realized, 99 percent of the time, people are funny, clever, inventive, beautiful.” In this confession, spoken with honesty and wonder, lies a revelation about fear, connection, and the power of seeing goodness where one expects only darkness. Her words, though rooted in the modern age, echo an ancient truth: that the world, when approached with openness instead of dread, reveals more light than shadow.

When Lewis admits she was “scared of what I might attract,” she speaks for all who have feared the gaze of the crowd — the judgment, the chaos, the cruelty that can accompany exposure. Her fear is the fear of vulnerability, of stepping into the public square of modern life, where voices rise in both celebration and scorn. Yet, as her words reveal, this fear was an illusion — one born from the noise of rumor and the shadows of imagination. Once she entered that realm, not as a spectator but as a participant, she found what was hidden beneath the surface: not hatred, but humanity — “funny, clever, inventive, beautiful.” This is the transformation of perception, the alchemy of courage turning anxiety into understanding.

The ancients, too, knew this paradox of fear and connection. The philosopher Epictetus, of the Stoic school, taught that men fear not things themselves, but their ideas of things. The world, he said, is neither kind nor cruel; it simply is. It is our judgment that paints it in terror. In much the same way, Lewis discovered that social media — this vast and often chaotic agora — is not inherently poisonous, but a reflection of the people who dwell within it. And while cruelty does exist, she found that most souls who gather there seek the same thing that humans have always sought: to express, to create, to share laughter, to be seen. The fear she once carried dissolved in the warmth of this realization.

There is a story from ancient Athens, when the philosopher Diogenes walked into the bustling marketplace and, seeing the endless wares before him, said, “How many things there are which I do not need!” He was not condemning the marketplace but marveling at it — the abundance, the creativity, the ceaseless invention of humankind. In her own way, Juliette Lewis discovered this same marvel. The digital marketplace, for all its noise, is also a celebration of the human spirit — an infinite gallery of ideas, humor, art, and empathy. Where she once expected chaos, she found community; where she feared ugliness, she found beauty.

Her words also remind us of the danger of letting fear govern our view of the world. In every age, the new is met with suspicion. The printing press was once feared for spreading lies, the telephone for intruding on privacy, the radio for corrupting minds. Yet, in time, each became a tool of connection, bringing voices and stories to those who would otherwise remain alone. Lewis’s journey from fear to faith mirrors this ancient pattern: that what is unfamiliar can feel dangerous until we see its human face. The very tool she once dreaded became the bridge between her and those who loved her music — not as fans, but as fellow travelers in creativity and joy.

To call people “funny, clever, inventive, beautiful” is to recognize the divine spark within ordinary humanity. It is to see that, despite the noise of the world, most hearts lean toward light. For every cruel word written online, there are a thousand small gestures of kindness — a song shared, a joke exchanged, an act of comfort offered to a stranger. Lewis’s discovery is not naïve optimism; it is the clarity that comes from direct experience. She learned what all true seekers learn: that when we dare to engage with the world honestly, without cynicism, we are more likely to find kindness than cruelty, creation than destruction.

The lesson, then, is clear: do not let fear close the door to connection. The world is larger and kinder than the anxious mind imagines. Whether in social media or in life itself, what you find depends on what you seek. Approach others not with suspicion but with curiosity. Look for the humor, the wit, the beauty in those around you — and you will discover, as Juliette Lewis did, that goodness is not rare but abundant. The human soul, when seen without judgment, reveals its endless creativity.

So, my child, remember this: step boldly into the world, even when it frightens you. The darkness you fear often fades when you enter it with light. Engage with others not from defense, but from love; not to protect yourself, but to understand. For as Juliette Lewis reminds us, beyond fear lies discovery — and beyond discovery lies wonder. When you dare to see the world as it truly is, you will find it not cruel, but funny, clever, inventive, and beautiful, just as she did — and in that vision, you will rediscover the eternal truth: that humanity, in all its noise and imperfection, is still filled with light.