Editor’s Note: Steven Watson is back and it’s always a good read.

Almost twenty years on Facebook.

When I first joined, it was mostly photographs, jokes, keeping up with friends, and probably sharing things that didn’t need to be shared.

But over the years, Facebook became much more than that for me.

I shared my photography.
I shared jokes.
I shared pieces of my life.

And when my kidneys failed and dialysis became part of my life, social media became almost like a journal.

I shared the good days and the bad. The wins, the setbacks, the frustrations, the fear. I shared what it was like living with Polycystic Kidney Disease—the same disease my father lived with before I eventually found myself walking a similar road.

Then came cancer.

A brain tumour. Surgery. Radiation. Chemotherapy. And now, having been told it has returned, I’m facing treatment all over again while continuing dialysis three days a week.

Through all of it, Facebook has been there.

It’s allowed people to see the parts of my life they might never see otherwise—the fatigue, the treatments, the uncertainty, the things happening inside my head that aren’t visible from the outside.

Sometimes my posts are simply my way of saying:

This is what my life really looks like.

But I’m certainly not innocent when it comes to the bad side of social media.

I’ve gotten political.
I’ve argued.
I’ve disagreed.
I’ve probably pissed a few people off.

That’s the power of social media.

Everybody gets a microphone.

I’ve also started using mine to talk about things from my past—things I’ve buried for decades. Childhood wounds, hurt, anger, questions and experiences I never really knew how to deal with.

Maybe getting older—and realizing none of us knows how many chapters we have left—has made me want to stop carrying everything I’ve buried.

So I’m unpacking it.

Not because I want attention.

Because maybe someone reading my words has been carrying something similar.

Maybe someone with kidney disease will feel less alone.

Maybe someone going through cancer will recognize the fear.

Maybe someone grieving will understand the emptiness.

Maybe someone carrying childhood trauma will realize it’s okay to finally talk about it.

That’s the good side of social media.

I’ve received encouragement from people I’ve never met. I’ve connected with people walking their own difficult roads. I’ve had people tell me something I’ve written helped them.

And since losing my driver’s licence, social media has even helped me find rides to dialysis, appointments and treatments.

Something that started with photographs and jokes has sometimes become a lifeline.

But social media can hurt too.

Not everyone will understand what I share. Some people have told me my posts are distasteful or that I need to grow up.

That’s okay.

They don’t have to understand.

Because for every person who says, “You shouldn’t post that,” there’s often someone else saying, “I understand.”

Someone who finally feels comfortable telling their story because I told mine first.

And that’s why I keep writing.

I’m not trying to make everyone comfortable.

I’m trying to be honest.

After almost twenty years on Facebook, I’ve shared photographs, told jokes, argued politics, documented my health journey, grieved, celebrated, overshared and probably pissed people off more than once.

Now I’m using this microphone to tell the story of a man trying to make sense of the road he’s travelled.

I don’t know how many chapters are left.

But I know I don’t want to pretend the difficult ones never happened.

They’re part of my story too.

So I’ll keep sharing the wins and the losses.

The good.
The bad.
The ugly.
The funny.
The painful.

Everything in between.

Because I’ve learned that sometimes the most powerful thing you can share isn’t a photograph, a joke or an opinion.

Sometimes it’s simply your story.

And if telling mine helps even one person feel a little less alone, then maybe sharing it was worth it.

That’s the power of social media.

Let’s put the power of social media to the test! While unable to participate, Steven is collecting donations for the Terry Fox Run this Sunday, September 20th. If you’d like to contribute, donate here: Steven | Terry Fox Run

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