I discovered the meaning of journalism through a petty argument with my brother. [View all]

Last edited Mon Mar 9, 2026, 07:50 AM - Edit history (1)

I'll go ahead and provide the necessary context for the title. I was at work (I work at a Domino's pizza lol, really living out here. I'm 18 years young, and a straight white male!) The topic of the Me Too movement was brought up with my brother, so I found it necessary to state my stance: "Would false allegations even be an issue in the first place if said assault wasn't so societally normalized?" To be honest, that isn't exactly what I said, though. I said, "Would false SA allegations evenbe an issue if said SA wasn't so normalized in the first place?" My brother took offense to that specifically, and boy, did he sure let me know! In response to that, my brother started rattling statistics off to tell me about how wrong I was. I tried to respond in only a way that I saw as respectful, but it was hard, you know?

So now, it's around 11 (I close at midnight). As the conversation devolved, I felt like I had less and less of a reason to even argue my point. So I went to my manager (we'll say her name is Marie) and explained his drunken, violent past. I let her know that he had been drunk and handsy with me before; I just wanted to go home, really. So I then explained why exactly I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home early to ensure my girlfriend's safety, as she had already been waiting for me to clock out for a few hours. She was asleep in her car, but even then, I knew it was unlocked, so I wanted to ensure her safety. My manager immediately dropped any pretense of keeping me till closing and said, "Come here and hug me. Put your phone down and everything will be okay." At the time, I had nothing in my mind except for ensuring my girlfriend's safety. After the hug, I explained everything I just did to y'all, to her.

I had no idea why she was comforting me for a situation she seemingly didn't know the excruciating details of, but I responded to the kindness with a mirror. After the warm, homey feeling, hug, she told me, "You have no idea how much it means to me that you are willing to speak out about things like this to your brother. You will never understand how much that means to me." Fast forward, I updated my mom on everything, and we're on our way home. My mom, without knowing I had already updated my manager, provided me with context of her past. My manager grew up in an environment where she was constantly abused by men. By her dad sexually, and her brother domestically. I immediately felt crushed and was driven to tears. At the time, I didn't know why.

I now know. As a person, I choose journalism for life experiences like this. My words, without me knowing, can affect others. I have, on many accounts, felt powerless in some aspects of my life. The knowledge that my words have positively impacted someone, without me having to overcompensate, is beautiful. I find beauty in impacting others in a positive way.

Believe women, I know I believe Marie.


For Journalistic integrity it's important to note that this Post is a repost. The woman who I am talking about here approved me platforming her story, but disagreed with me using her name. I didn't think of that when writing and apologized and asked if I could repost the story without it and she approved! We do love consent around here