I remember creating my first Tumblr blog back in high school. I was huge into anime back then, and all my friends who were also into anime had a Tumblr. They always talked about the funny posts people made about their fandoms or an inside joke that only one with a blog would understand.

So I thought, hey, why not make one myself? I needed somewhere to fangirl, anyway. Sure, I could do it on my Facebook profile, however, the majority of my friends on my Facebook weren't into anime. So it felt odd to share and post about it there and not get any feedback.

Once I came up with a URL, decorated my theme, and followed other blogs, I was hooked. This site was amazing to me. I could scroll for hours on a dashboard that had all the things I enjoyed. It was better than scrolling through Facebook.

Unlike Facebook, I was able to see posts related to things I was into. I didn't feel as lonely in my anime obsession (keep in mind, this was before anime became a bit more mainstream).

I kept the blog to myself, only allowing my friends to visit it. I wanted it to be my own little world. I wanted it to be an escape from everything else.

It wasn't until about a year after I was using it, my dashboard had more than just pretty gifs and corny memes. It was starting to get political, but not the kind of politics I was used to seeing on my Facebook. It was politics related to the LGBTQ+ community, which, of course, I never saw on my Facebook or in real life for that matter.

The politics weren't just related to real life and current events. They even made their way into posts about fandoms. If a certain character from a show, movie, anime, etc did anything remotely "problematic," the whole website would preach about how "disgusting" you were if you enjoyed that character.

Not only characters, but they would even protest against any shows/anime/movies as a whole, songs, celebrities, books, authors, freelance artists, the list goes on. If they did one wrong thing, it was against what felt like the rules of Tumblr to like them. Otherwise, you'd be ignored and blocked by the majority of the community.

I have always agreed with equality. Around this time, I didn't know what sexuality I was, but I did know I wasn't straight. I always knew racism was wrong.

My mom was a feminist, so the feminism portion of Tumblr wasn't startling to me. It wasn't the beliefs on Tumblr that startled me since I had already agreed with some of what they said. It was the high energy and aggressive tone all the posts had.

I was on the website so much, I was starting to gain that loud voice. I started to become what later on was titled a "social justice warrior."

Now, I wasn't as extreme as others since I was only in high school. But I sure did make it known to my family and friends in real life. I would have something to say if my friends disagreed with feminism, or being gay or trans. I would start arguments in school, church, and with my family sometimes. I even went as far as writing an article in my school's newspaper about gay marriage.

Even if I was an outspoken SJW, there was one big thing that I believed in that Tumblr didn't. Christianity.

Anyone with a Tumblr would know that being a Christian and being on that website was not a good mix. Social justice users on Tumblr didn't like Christians at all.

Sure, not all of them hated Christians, but probably 95% of them did, so of course, their voice was louder than any others. The anti-Christian posts would get so bad, that I would just slam my laptop shut in frustration and be done with my dashboard for the night.

I wanted to be a good Christian. I also wanted my voice to be heard when it came to equality. What was I supposed to do? I felt like I couldn't pick both. It was like I was stuck in the middle of two different groups of people yelling in each of my ears as they played tug-of-war with my arms.

Around the time I graduated high school, I'm not sure what exactly clicked or gave me this realization. But I knew it was time for me to take back myself as a person.

I realized that I didn't have to choose either of the two sides. I came to the conclusion that my own beliefs were all that mattered to me. Even if people disagreed, I didn't have a right to stand in their way unless it was a toxic or dangerous belief. If it was, I would just get that person out of my life and stay far away from anyone like them.

I needed to leave Tumblr. I knew leaving Tumblr wouldn't permanently remove the communities who wanted me to think a certain way, but it was definitely easier to deal with those kinds of people in real life.

I realized my anxiety was coming from the website, and things in real life were making me happier than any high-quality gif of my favorite anime could. I still enjoyed anime and the many other interests/hobbies that followed afterward, but I decided to enjoy them with the people I grew up with in real life to make it even more enjoyable.

Of course, I kept a few good Internet friends, but I was sure to lose contact with the toxic ones.

Coming to this realization made me embarrassed of all the arguments and remarks I made to those I disagreed with. All I could do was learn from those mistakes and try not to make them again.

And don't get me wrong, if you're someone who feels the need to talk about their beliefs and likes getting into debates, that's fine. But for me personally, I can't do it. It's not worth getting my anxiety triggered by it.

Tumblr isn't an awful site. It's a pretty cool and aesthetically-pleasing site if you just follow the right people. But even in 2017, the vast majority of the website is still social justice.

The pretty pictures and gifs just aren't worth it for me. Of course, this doesn't mean that Tumblr is the only place with outspoken people. Facebook can be like that too, which is the main app I use right now. But it sure is easier to ignore those kinds of people on Facebook.

No matter what website I sign myself up for, or what community I put myself in in real life, I know now that I have to chose where I want to be wisely. Because communities can sure as hell persuade and pressure others to think a certain way when we should really just follow our own paths and beliefs.