Online community spaces tend to run on light conversation, shared humour, and the gentle ego strokes that come with human connection. People bond, form micro-friendships, and create little pockets of familiarity. Most of the time, it is harmless (especially when you don’t take things seriously) and can be enjoyable. But every so often, something entirely unexpected surfaces: a person who, under pressure, begins to rewrite reality.
This situation involved me and 2 other guys; let’s just call them Luke, and Seth. Luke is 36, easygoing, and likes a chat when at work, especially with the ladies. Seth, 56, is physically striking, works out, appears to be selective with his interactions, and carries the kind of presence that draws attention without trying. Both men exist independently within the platform, with consistent individual histories, photographs, and behavioural patterns that reflect separate lives.
Then there’s Sara, who had always seemed balanced, social, and reasonable. She shares one of the chat groups I used to join in quite regularly, is friendly with Luke, and appears very comfortable within that group dynamics. For a long time, everything between us was unremarkable. Until it suddenly wasn’t… yesterday evening.
Looking back, the shift perhaps began when Sara saw Seth defend me publicly. I had posted a screenshot of a series of private messages I had received from a man behaving vulgarly towards me. The behaviour was crude, and several of the people I know responded predictably, but Seth’s response stood out. His reply was not merely humorous, but also protective, warm, and distinctly personal. He followed up with a second message expressing concern that I experienced behaviour like that at all.
This alone would have caught Sara’s attention. But what came next sharpened the contrast: I replied with an inside joke I share with Seth. It was light and friendly, referencing how he and I have a laugh winding Luke up. It signalled rapport, familiarity, and a level of personal connection that cannot be faked. Suddenly, Sara was watching a dynamic she was not part of.
This was the moment the psychological rupture probably happened. On the day of my post, Sara messaged me asking if “Luke” was the one she knew. I replied “yes”.
However last night, Sara announced that Luke and Seth were the same man. Despite the fact that Seth and Luke look nothing alike, are different ages, have very different hairstyles (one has long hair, the other is closely shaven), social rhythms, and online histories, she insisted they were one person running two accounts. When shown photographs of Seth, she still said no, he looked the same as Luke…. When I pointed out the contradictions, she replied with “That’s my opinion.”
On the surface, this seemed completely irrational, but I was not going to get into any further discussion with her; instead, I turned to one of my psychology professors and learned that her stance is, in reality, a textbook emotional defence mechanism.
Social psychology has shown repeatedly that comparison is one of the most destabilising human experiences. It does not matter whether the comparison is conscious or unconscious; when a person sees themselves coming off second best, the mind moves quickly to protect the self-image.
Sara’s experience that night quite probaby hit three psychological triggers at once which then resulted in her messaging me two days later again.
First, she witnessed a desirable, high-value man show visible loyalty and protectiveness towards me. This alone can activate feelings of inadequacy or loss of status.
Second, she saw an inside joke exchanged between Seth and me, signalling a closeness she was not part of. Research shows that observing private rapport between others can provoke sharp feelings of exclusion, even if the relationship is platonic.
Third, she realised Seth and I had a connection to Luke, which was separate from the group in which she interacts with him. This created a double contrast. One woman being “chosen” twice is a threat to someone quietly measuring their own social place.
At that point, Sara’s mind was confronted with an uncomfortable question: “Why her, and not me?” Most people do not want to entertain that thought. Instead, the mind reaches for a narrative that neutralises the discomfort.
Claiming Luke and Seth were the same man was that narrative…. Yup I know; I can’t still get my mind around this either.
Apparently this allowed her to flatten the hierarchy, erase the difference in connection, and avoid acknowledging feelings of being less chosen. In essence, it was emotional damage control. And once she announced that conclusion, the psychological trap tightened. Admitting she was wrong would require acknowledging why she made the claim in the first place. That would mean confronting jealousy, social comparison, and a drop in perceived status. Very few people are willing to do that, especially publicly.
Hence the insistence. Hence the dismissive “that’s my opinion.” These statements were not about truth. They were about self-protection. Thinking back, she never posted a supportive comment about the vulgar guy’s comments at the time which now strikes me as strange; I would have taken the time to reply to someone’s post if I had seen what had been sent to me..
What is important to understand these reactions meant that, in a moment of emotional stress, her brain chose ego safety over logic. This is an established pattern in human behaviour. Once the threat passes, people almost always reset to their baseline. Shame operates quietly in the aftermath. The more misplaced the reaction, the faster people try to move past it.
I did nothing to cause or intensify the situation. My interactions are normal, respectful, and within ordinary social boundaries. The response had everything to do with Sara’s internal state and nothing to do with me.
Apparently, these emotional spikes typically fade within days. People rarely revisit them because they instinctively know they did not behave at their best. Sara should recalibrate once her ego has had time to settle, and she will likely resume her usual interactions, acting as if the incident never occurred.
For observers, this provides a clear insight into how comparisons, perceived exclusions, and social hierarchy operate beneath the surface in online communities. Ego threat is often invisible until it is activated, and when it is activated, it can bend reality in astonishing ways.
Who knew eh?
Further Reading
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The Social Animal by Elliot Aronson
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Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton
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Social Comparison Processes by Suls and Wheeler
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The Handbook of Self and Identity edited by Leary and Tangney
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The Psychology of Envy, Smith and Kim, 2007
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Interpersonal Perception by Mark Costanzo
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The Person and the Situation by Ross and Nisbett
