Shelter from the Storm: Choosing Engagement Over Isolation in the Digital Age

{Jai Santora}

It’s becoming a growing trend: people are abandoning major social media platforms in search of alternatives that promise to be “more inclusive,” “less toxic,” and more diligent in fact-checking what’s posted. At first glance, these moves make sense. Who wouldn’t want a space that feels safer, more respectful, and less overrun by misinformation and hate speech? But while these new platforms can offer short-term relief, we have to be honest with ourselves about what we’re giving up when we walk away from the digital spaces where the majority of the world still communicates.

        The truth is, there’s something deeply unsettling about how certain media outlets and social platforms are influenced—if not outright controlled—by corporations, political donors, and government entities. When a handful of powerful players shape public discourse, the result is a digital ecosystem where misinformation spreads like wildfire. It’s easy to see why people want to seek shelter from that storm. But in leaving, we risk something just as dangerous: isolation from the very conversations where our voices are most needed.

        The internet has always been a double-edged sword. It can connect and uplift, but it can also mislead and manipulate. With the rise of artificial intelligence and increasingly realistic deepfakes, the ability to distinguish fact from fiction is harder than ever. Fake profiles, doctored images, and AI-generated content flood our feeds. The line between what’s real and what’s manufactured has become frighteningly thin.

For decades, we’ve been teaching our children how to be safe online, setting up parental controls and warning them about predators and scams. But the threats have evolved—and now they don’t just target children. They target all of us. Adults, too, are vulnerable to misinformation, manipulation, and the echo chambers that form when we only interact with people who already agree with us.

        I remember when the phrase “I saw it on the internet, so it must be true!” was a punchline. These days, it feels more like a warning. We’ve all had to learn how to cross-reference sources, to read critically, to question even the most convincing content. But it’s exhausting. And when it feels like the platforms themselves are stacked against the truth, it’s tempting to check out entirely.

         But here’s the thing: if we all retreat to smaller, safer spaces—alternative platforms with fewer users, fewer dissenting voices, and less visibility—then we’re not just finding safety. We’re also surrendering the opportunity to challenge misinformation where it thrives.

         There has been a dangerous spread of false narratives about the trans community, abortion rights, immigration, and so much more. These aren’t just annoying internet rumors. They’re harmful distortions that shape public opinion, policy, and behavior. They create real-world consequences. And while it’s absolutely understandable to want to shield ourselves from the emotional toll of seeing these lies repeated, it’s also critical to stay in the fight. To stay visible. To stay engaged.

Because if we aren’t present in these mainstream platforms—the digital town squares of our time—then who is left to speak the truth?

         I’ve written in the past about my own personal experiences with misogyny, transphobia, and the constant struggle to live authentically in a world that often feels hostile. It would be easy for me to step back, to find a more comfortable corner of the internet and limit my interactions to those

who already understand and support me. But I’ve chosen to remain visible. Not because it’s easy—but because it’s necessary.

        Visibility isn’t just about being seen. It’s about disrupting the narratives that seek to erase us. It’s about showing up in spaces where people might not expect to see us, and using our presence as a tool for education and change. It’s about meeting ignorance not with silence, but with clarity and courage.

         Of course, this comes at a cost. Being visible in hostile spaces can be draining and, at times, dangerous. But if we all step away from those platforms, we leave them to the people who are least likely to use them responsibly—and most likely to weaponize them against marginalized communities.

         We cannot afford to abandon the spaces where misinformation takes root. Instead, we must learn to navigate them more strategically. That means building coalitions, amplifying factual voices, calling out harmful content, and supporting those who speak truth to power. It also means taking care of ourselves—knowing when to log off, when to recharge, and when to return with renewed focus.

        There is strength in choosing to   stay. There is power in showing up again and again, even when it’s hard. And there is hope in the idea that by staying visible and vocal on platforms where the fight is fiercest, we can actually move the needle. We can reach people who might be misinformed, or on the fence, or simply unaware. We can be part of changing the conversation.

Creating better digital spaces doesn’t mean fleeing from the flawed ones. It means transforming them—bit by bit—with every post, every comment, every fact, and every act of kindness or solidarity. It means meeting misinformation not with retreat, but with resistance.

We don’t need to be everywhere all the time. But we do need to be somewhere where it matters. And often, that’s exactly where the storm is.