Bro, I have a Concern

August 14, 2026

I saw something this morning about the ocean being salty and if it were sweet people would have bottled it too. Its saltiness is its freedom. This is not about water. Obviously. But salty stuck with me because it’s one of those words we use to put people into a category and I know I’ve landed in some version of that category plenty of times. Difficult, opinionated, intense, intimidating, whatever else has been added over the years. I don’t think I’ve ever actually been called salty, although maybe I have. It doesn’t really matter. Same bucket.

What I’m trying to figure out is why having a voice seems to put you there in the first place, except that’s not quite right because everyone has a voice. Everyone has opinions. Maybe it’s actually using it when everyone else has silently agreed not to. There are truths we seem perfectly comfortable knowing as long as nobody names them, which makes absolutely no sense when I write that down. We all know this thing. We can see this thing. We might even talk privately about this thing. But how dare you actually say the thing. That’s where the reaction comes from. It sits too close to something true and suddenly the problem isn’t whatever was happening, it’s the person who made everyone acknowledge it.

Who exactly are we protecting when we do that? I keep coming back to that because someone is getting protected and usually it seems to be the person whose behaviour everyone else is already accommodating. Which makes me think about this person I worked with who called everyone bro. Everyone was bro. The bro thing wasn’t even the issue, it just barely scratched the surface of things that needed babysitting. There were so many other concerning things about this person, things they said, things they did, their behaviour, reactions, boundaries, and now I’m thinking about how much time everyone spent managing all of it. I don’t know that anyone ever called it managing. It was just what happened around them.

That’s actually bizarre when I think about it now because adults would have conversations about how to deal with another adult before dealing with the adult. Someone would need to be there, something would need to be worded a certain way, don’t bring this up, be aware of that, anticipate the reaction, then the reaction happens anyway and now we’re dealing with that. At what point is this just babysitting? Actually I think babysitting might be easier. At least with a child nobody is pretending the four-year-old should have excellent emotional regulation.

And somehow all of this is more socially acceptable than saying what everyone already knows. That’s the part I cannot get my head around. We can spend an incredible amount of time accommodating behaviour that we privately agree is concerning, but the person who stops accommodating it risks becoming difficult. I know I’ve been that person more than once. Rather than be friends with Arbe, let’s label her with all the cliché tags that make her undesirable rather than consider the message. I suppose that’s easier. Once I’m difficult, whatever I said can just become another example of Arbe being difficult.

Although obviously I’ve actually been difficult too. I’m not delusional. I’ve been wrong and I’ve handled things badly and I’ve said things I probably shouldn’t have said. That’s not what I’m thinking about. I’m thinking about the times when everyone knew. Those are the ones that bother me because I’ve watched people do bad things for years while other people stood around knowing they were bad and apparently the greater fear was becoming someone like me. Someone who says something. That’s quite the choice when I actually look at it. I can either risk somebody deciding I’m intimidating or I can participate in the unofficial adult babysitting program and discuss my concerns privately afterward.

Honestly I couldn’t care less. Or maybe that’s not entirely true because obviously there have been times when being labelled has hurt me. I’m not immune to that. But it has never hurt enough to make the other option make sense. I sleep better knowing my moral compass isn’t ruled by people who most of the time need a babysitter for the activities they participate in. Even that sentence will probably sound salty to someone, which is kind of funny because I’m sitting here thinking about the behaviour that required the babysitter and somehow we’re back to discussing my tone.

That’s the part I can’t get away from. How did being the person who names something become the less desirable person to be? How much shit are people willing to sit beside, work around, apologize for, privately complain about and then sit beside again because at least nobody can call them difficult?

And now I’m thinking maybe I’ve learned entirely the wrong lesson from all of this.

Maybe my next chapter is just leading with bro.

Apparently people are considerably more willing to accept social ineptitude than any version of salt, so maybe I’ve been approaching this wrong for years. I don’t need to soften the message. I just need a more socially acceptable delivery system.

Bro, this is wildly unethical.

Bro, everyone in this room knows that’s not true.

Bro, why are four adults currently managing your behaviour?

Actually, this might work.

Forget personal growth. I’ve found a loophole.

Next chapter: lead with bro.