Although my experience was deeply personal, it highlighted something much larger that we, as a profession, cannot ignore: the evolving relationship between dentistry and the digital world. The Incident In early 2024, about three months after I returned to work part-time following a long medical leave, I found myself still regaining my footing—emotionally, mentally, and professionally. The world felt particularly heavy: I was grappling with personal challenges, the echoes of a medical journey not far behind me, and the deep emotional impact of the Gaza war unfolding in real time. It was a time of vulnerability, both privately and globally, and like many others, I struggled to process it all. During this fragile period, I made a mistake. On a private Instagram account—intended only for a close circle of friends and coworkers—I shared thoughts that, while never intended for a broad audience, ended up being taken out of context, amplified, and weaponized in the public arena. The internet, as it often does, was unforgiving. What was once private was now public, and suddenly, my career, reputation, and very identity were under attack. Dentistry demands that we strive for perfection—for precision, care, and excellence—because our patients trust us with their health, their confidence, and often their deepest fears. I understand this, and I embrace it. We must always aim for perfection in our work. Yet outside the operatory, we remain human. We are not immune to the tides of grief, anger, hope, and fear that move through the world. When global events touch our lives, they inevitably influence our emotional states, even if our white coats suggest otherwise. Striving for clinical excellence should not require the denial of our humanity. Social media has created unprecedented opportunities for professional growth: sharing innovations, connecting with colleagues, and building brands with authenticity. But it also brings unprecedented risks. In spaces designed for rapid consumption and even faster outrage, nuance often gets lost. Context evaporates. The humanity of the professional behind the screen can be forgotten in an instant. We are encouraged to be relatable, yet punished for being imperfect. We are told to be authentic, yet exposed when that authenticity doesn’t align with shifting societal expectations. It is an exhausting tightrope, and one that leaves many professionals feeling isolated, anxious, and afraid to show vulnerability at all. If the expectation is that professionals must be untouched by the world around them, we risk cultivating a culture that values appearances over authenticity. It is not weakness to be impacted by the times we live in—it is simply part of being human. For my safety and peace of mind, I made the difficult decision to change my name—not to hide, but to survive. In that choice, however, there was also a reclaiming: I returned to my birth name, an Arab name I had long kept at arm’s length in an effort to assimilate. What was once a shield of invisibility became, ironically, a source of quiet strength and authenticity. This is not a story seeking pity or offering excuses. It is a story of resilience, growth, and a deeper understanding of the complex intersection between personal humanity and professional responsibility in the digital age. The Bigger Picture Although my experience was deeply personal, it highlighted something much larger that we, as a profession, cannot ignore: the evolving relationship between dentistry and the digital world. 21 Issue 4 | 2025 | Issues and People
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