When My Voice Doesn’t Fit Someone Else’s Filter

But I'll keep joking anyway

Online conversations can be a bit of a jungle.

I recently made a playful, sarcastic comment; a little poke, meant to tease and it somehow landed as hurtful.

At first, I thought, Wait, that wasn’t what I meant! (Also: note to self, sarcasm does not come with an automatic “just kidding” button online.)

Then I reminded myself: people are all different.

Some read words literally. Some analyze every sentence as if it’s a puzzle.

What seems obvious to me; sarcasm, playful exaggeration can feel to someone else like criticism or even a personal attack.

That became very real when someone I was chatting with on Substack decided to block me. Just like that. Gone.

To him, sarcasm is to inflict pain (according to Fowler’s Modern English Usage)

To me, it was lighthearted banter.

The gap between our perspectives was too wide to bridge.

At first, it stung. Being blocked over words, especially words I thought were harmless felt unfair.

But then I realized something: when I put my true self out there, it’s inevitable that not everyone will be able to take me.

That doesn’t make me defective, it just means my voice won’t fit everyone’s ears. (And honestly, thank goodness…can you imagine trying to be the human version of elevator music? No, thank you.)

The tricky part about online spaces is that humor loses its context.

A joke doesn’t carry the wink or tone of voice that would make it clear in person. People read through their own lenses; sometimes sensitive, sometimes literal, sometimes just tired, and it all mixes with whatever they’re carrying that day.

What I’ve learned is this:

Conversations; online or offline teach patience, empathy, and humility. They remind me that acceptance and no expectation are powerful ways to stay grounded.

I can’t control how my words land. I can only own my intention, staying humble and open.

It’s about giving space for understanding, while still letting the conversation be playful and human, even if it gets messy sometimes.

This doesn’t mean I’ll stop being sarcastic or playful, it just means I’ll keep reminding myself that misfires happen, and it’s not always a reflection of me.

So yes, it hurt to be blocked. But it also left me lighter.

It was a reminder that being myself comes with risk. Sometimes people won’t get it, and sometimes they’ll walk away.

And I’d rather live with that than twist myself into someone unrecognizable just to keep everyone comfortable.

Have you ever had a comment land completely differently than you meant it? I’d love to hear your story.