In the summer of 2018, a 54-year-old woman living in a Houston suburb—a woman I’ll call Denise—decided to expand her social media horizons.
“I’m not a social media butterfly,” she tells me. “I’m typically lurking on Facebook to see what my daughters are getting up to, but 2018 was a politically charged year. Twitter seemed like a good forum to pop in and blow off some steam.”
Denise was working as a freelance writer, which included articles for business publications as well as writing corporate manuals. She was also working on a manuscript that was part memoir, part acerbic take on current events. Her politics were mainstream and generally in the middle of the road, and she was open about not being religious in a very religious part of the country. Her writing showed that she was smart, funny, and loved sarcasm.
Two years earlier, her husband of 28 years had died after a battle with colon cancer. He’d built a company that constructed apartment complexes in Texas and they had done well together, amassing nearly $1 million in savings. Denise was still recovering emotionally from his death, and she wasn’t looking for a new relationship. But with her two grown daughters out of the house, Denise had some time on her hands and was looking to interact with others.
“My Twitter profile wasn’t exceptional. My picture certainly wasn’t glamorous. Setting up my account I followed some politicians, some of my favorite rock bands, animal rights activists,…
