05 Jun 2026
‘ I didn’t choose to see that. And that matters.’ It’s OK To Say founder Stacey Turner explores digital wellbeing, informed consent, mental health and media responsibility.
Recently, I came across a Facebook post shared by the Herts Advertiser containing footage of a man abusing his dog, a case which has since resulted in a five year ban on keeping animals following serious cruelty offences involving his Rottweiler, Dyson.
I want to be clear: this article is not about whether the story should have been reported. It should have been.
Animal cruelty must be exposed. Accountability matters. Journalism matters.
What concerns me is something different: how distressing content is shared, and whether enough thought is given to the mental wellbeing of the people receiving it.
Because when I saw the footage, there was: No warning. No blurred cover image. No click-to-view option. No message advising the content may be distressing.
Just upsetting material immediately visible on my screen.
My immediate reaction wasn’t outrage first. It was shock.
But what has stayed with me is this: I have not been able to stop thinking about what I saw since viewing it.
The image has replayed in my mind. It has made me feel sick, not only because of the cruelty itself, but because I never chose to see it in the first place.
And I can only imagine I am not alone in feeling that way.
Others may have experienced the same lingering distress. Others may already be carrying trauma, grief, anxiety or overwhelm and have been confronted with something they were emotionally unprepared for.
That matters. Because what we consume online does not always stay online.
Sometimes it follows us. Into our thoughts. Into our sleep. Into our mood. Into our wellbeing.
And this is where the conversation becomes bigger than one post, or one organisation. It becomes about digital wellbeing, and about being mindful of the environments we place ourselves in to protect our mental and emotional health.
We often talk about protecting our physical environment, our homes, our spaces, and the people we surround ourselves with. But we also need to recognise that our digital environment is just as real, just as influential, and just as capable of impacting our wellbeing.
Being mindful of our environment must now include being mindful of what we consume online, because what enters our screens also enters our minds.
I am shocked that in 2026, with everything we now understand about trauma, anxiety, PTSD, emotional regulation and mental wellbeing, media organisations can still share graphic or distressing content without considering the impact on the people consuming it.
Because behind every screen is a person carrying something.
Someone grieving. Someone struggling with anxiety. Someone living with trauma. Someone recovering from abuse. Someone already overwhelmed.
A child scrolling.
A person trying simply to get through their day.
And increasingly, many of us are exhausted by what arrives uninvited in our feeds.
I am not questioning whether difficult stories should be reported.
Animal cruelty exists. Abuse exists. Journalism has a responsibility to expose harm.
But responsible reporting should also ask: How do we share difficult truths without causing unnecessary distress?
Because there were options.
The image could have been blurred.
There could have been a cover screen reading:
“Warning: This video contains distressing footage relating to animal cruelty. Click to view.”
Viewers could then make an informed choice. Instead, that choice appeared absent. And this is the part that matters most to me: I have a right to choose what I consume. And so do you.
You have a right to decide whether you are emotionally able to watch distressing footage. You have a right to protect your wellbeing. You have a right to avoid content that may trigger trauma, anxiety or upset. You have a right to say: “Not today.”
That should not be controversial.
Because once something distressing is seen, it cannot always be unseen.
I kept thinking afterwards about how often we are warned elsewhere. Netflix warns us. The BBC warns us. Disney+ warns us.
Streaming platforms routinely blur content or provide messages such as: “Contains distressing scenes”, “Viewer discretion advised”, “This programme includes upsetting content.”
Not because difficult stories should be hidden. Because choice matters. Because audience wellbeing matters. Because informed consent matters.
If entertainment platforms showing fictional violence, documentaries or difficult real-life events routinely provide warnings before viewers proceed, why should local news organisations or social media publishers not offer the same courtesy before sharing real footage of animal cruelty?
If streaming services can pause and ask viewers whether they wish to continue, surely news organisations can too?
The conversation here is bigger than one social media post.
It is about digital wellbeing.
We regularly encourage people to prioritise mental health, seek support, speak openly and protect their peace. Yet we rarely discuss the cumulative impact of repeatedly encountering traumatic or graphic material online without warning.
The human brain was never designed to absorb distressing footage between family updates, local news and photographs of someone’s lunch.
Repeated exposure to upsetting content can contribute to anxiety, emotional fatigue, stress and desensitisation. We talk about workplace burnout; perhaps we should also talk about emotional
burnout from what appears unexpectedly on our screens.
As consumers of content, we deserve more respect. Not protection from reality. Protection of choice. Because informed choice is empowering.
What shocked me most was not only the footage itself, but the apparent absence of consideration for audience wellbeing. If organisations genuinely care about communities and mental health, perhaps one simple question should become standard before publishing graphic content: Could this unexpectedly harm or distress someone?
If the answer might be yes: Blur the image. Add a warning. Provide context. Offer a choice.
Mental health awareness cannot only exist during campaigns or awareness weeks. It has to show up in everyday decisions, including what we place on people’s screens.
Because I have a right to choose. And so do you. Everyone should have the right to decide what they are ready to see.
And when distressing content is unavoidable, dignity looks like giving people a moment to choose before it appears.
