I was born in 2002 and raised around electronics, but I didn't get into them as quickly as some others.
My first phone was a Nokia 3310 in 2005, which introduced me to gaming through classics like Snake and other preinstalled games. When I turned 6, a guy my mother was seeing at the time gifted me a Gameboy, and that's when I really fell in love with games. I can't recall all the games I played, but Pokémon was a big one.
Eventually, I got a PS1 and later a PS2 as Christmas presents from my gran and grandad, allowing me to play games like Sonic & Tails, TimeSplitters, The Godfather, GTA 3 up to Vice City and San Andreas, and GUN—one of my all-time favorites. I had the PS2 until I was in Primary 6 or 7, when I got an Xbox 360. That introduced me to games like Call of Duty, but this time with multiplayer, which really hooked me.
Games like Dark Souls, GTA V, and Destiny also became huge parts of my life. Destiny, in particular, holds a special place in my heart. From the early beta to the Witch Queen DLC in Destiny 2, it was my main game, where I made and lost some of the best friends I've had so far.
Up to this point, these were my interactions online. But when I started first year of high school, I got a phone—some sort of LG—and a tablet, I think a Samsung. These introduced me to social media. Before that, I'd only used the internet on school or library computers, but now I had it at my fingertips.
Getting a phone was arguably one of the worst decisions I made because of the extra trauma and stress it caused me. My first online interactions were typical—YouTube, Club Penguin, Moshi Monsters—then Facebook and Skype to stay connected with friends. At the time, the internet was like the Wild West, but worse. Don't get me wrong, the internet today isn't much better, and in some ways, it's worse.
Back then, it was horrendously easy for a child to stumble upon—or be shown by someone else—content no human should see, let alone a child. My first encounter with this was when some friends started talking about a site called Omegle, describing it as a place to chat with random strangers. Being horny teens, when someone mentioned that people sometimes got naked on there, we all checked it out. As you'd expect, the first thing we saw was a guy masturbating—a full-grown man who looked to be in his 40s, getting off to the idea of three boys aged 11-13, begging us to do things to each other.
The next experiences weren't much better, often following similar lines. One particularly traumatic incident for a child was a clip we saw of a guy livestreaming who then whipped out a shotgun, loaded it, put it in his mouth, and blew his brains out.
As a kid, I saw an uncountable number of videos like this—murder, rape, all sorts of horrific content. For someone with a lot of trauma already, seeing this type of content, especially while still developing, definitely did some damage.
From what I've heard talking to other guys, it seems to be a common experience, but I was groomed a lot online, mostly by adult women—or so I thought. Looking back as an adult, many were likely men pretending to be women to get what they wanted. Yes, it could be considered "consensual" in the sense that I sought out that kind of content—I wanted to see naked women because it made me feel good when nothing else did. But as an adult, I realize that's not normal. A child isn't old enough to consent, and that's not true consent.
The internet is a dangerous place. It's like stepping through the future right back to a past where predators lurk around every corner, waiting to strike. This doesn't mean I think the internet is all bad—I still use it and will continue to do so because the internet itself isn't the problem; it's the people.
The internet amplifies human behavior, both good and bad, and without proper guidance, it's easy to fall into traps that can leave lasting scars. Online safety is critical, especially for kids and teens who are still figuring out the world. Parents, talk to your kids—make them feel safe enough to come to you if they encounter something disturbing online, whether it's inappropriate content, grooming, or cyberbullying.
Teach them to question what they see, to recognize red flags like strangers asking for personal information or pushing boundaries, and to understand that not everything online is what it seems. If you're a child or teen going through something like this, talk to an adult you trust. Don't let shame or fear stop you—getting help early can prevent further damage.
Being mindful of what you consume online is just as important. The internet is a constant stream of information, and not all of it is healthy or safe.
Violent, explicit, or manipulative content can desensitize you, warp your perspective, or worsen existing trauma. It's easy to get sucked into a cycle of seeking out shocking or harmful material, especially when you're young and curious, but that exposure can shape your mental health in ways you don't realize until later.
Set boundaries for yourself—limit time on certain platforms, avoid engaging with strangers in unmoderated spaces, and be aware of how content makes you feel. If something feels off, trust that instinct and step away. The internet can be a tool for connection, learning, and creativity, but only if you navigate it with care and awareness.
This is a reminder to stay vigilant. Whether you're a parent, a young person, or just someone scrolling through, take steps to protect yourself and those around you.
The internet is a powerful tool, but it's up to us to use it responsibly and keep it from becoming a source of harm.