When we published “When Support Starts to Look Like a Cult” on SoMeDocs, I never anticipated the firestorm that would follow. The piece was an anonymous essay written by a physician, describing their experience in a social media group that, in their eyes, had shifted from a space of support to one of conformity. It was powerful, raw, and, yes, controversial. But it did not name any group.
And yet, one administrator of a large physician group assumed it was about their community. As the founder of SoMeDocs, but not the author of the article, I suddenly found myself exiled – banned without conversation, without dialogue, without transparency. Without ever speaking to me (ironically, the very thing they criticized the anonymous author for not doing), this administrator banned me outright.
Think about that: they were upset the author of “When Support Starts to Look Like a Cult” hadn’t approached them first (even though the piece never named their group), yet felt entirely justified in expelling me without so much as a message. I wasn’t the author. I hadn’t said a word publicly. My “crime” was simply being the founder of the platform that allowed another physician to share their truth. They condemned anonymity in writing, yet permitted anonymous smears about me within their group. They demanded transparency from others, yet silenced me without any conversation at all. If irony had a residency program, this would be its chief.
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What came next was even harder. I learned, through others, that I had been smeared inside the very group I could no longer access. My character, my intentions, even my religion (something I’ve never publicly shared and which had no relevance to the piece) were attacked. I was called “crazy,” “opportunistic,” “jealous of other women physicians.” I was accused of being “all in for $$”, reportedly using those very symbols (I hadn’t realized character assassination came with its own keyboard shortcuts).
The irony? These claims were made inside a group that charges members tens of thousands of dollars for certain activities. Meanwhile, SoMeDocs has hosted free conferences, offered entire periods of free membership, and charges $100 annually, while delivering more value than many professional organizations do today. If that’s what “all in for money” looks like, perhaps I need to re-read the business textbooks. And if building a platform that lowers barriers, amplifies physician voices, and levels the playing field is “opportunistic”, then yes, I’ll gladly wear that badge. Because the real opportunity here isn’t mine. It belongs to every physician who finally gets to be heard.
This experience raises a troubling question: what does “empowerment” really mean in physician circles today? Too often, it’s become a label we use without practicing its principles. True empowerment is not about building walls or silencing those we disagree with. It’s not about banishing a voice because it challenges our worldview. Real empowerment means holding space for difference. It means allowing conversations to unfold, even when they’re uncomfortable.
The anonymous physician who wrote “When Support Starts to Look Like a Cult” was not smearing any individual. They were describing their lived experience, and they did so courageously, knowing the risks of speaking out. That’s what SoMeDocs exists to do: give physicians a platform to share their voices, even when those voices aren’t universally popular.
Some physicians unsubscribed to SoMeDocs after the piece was published. Why? Because they disagreed with an opinion expressed by another physician. Think about that: leaving a community not because it silenced them, but because it allowed someone else to speak.
This is where we are today. Our physician social spaces are in danger of becoming echo chambers: places where only one type of voice is welcomed, and where any challenge to the dominant narrative is treated as betrayal. That’s not community. That’s conformity. And it’s exactly what the anonymous author of the essay was describing. When dissent is punished, we reinforce the illusion that everyone agrees. Over time, that illusion hardens into “truth.” And once we’ve reached that point, we’ve lost what it means to think, speak, and grow freely as professionals.
I have been marginalized and ousted before. Each time, I could have chosen the safe route: staying quiet, blending in, joining the popular side. Instead, I choose to stand alone. I stand alone not because it is easy, but because I believe it is necessary. Physicians today face enough external pressures (from shrinking autonomy, from corporate interests, from broken healthcare systems). If we can’t even hold space for honest, diverse dialogue among ourselves, how can we hope to tackle those bigger forces?
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SoMeDocs will continue to publish pieces that spark thought, even when they are uncomfortable. We will continue to give a platform to physicians who might otherwise stay silent. Because the only way forward is through conversation, not censorship.
This episode isn’t just about me. It’s about the culture we’re shaping as physicians online. Are we building spaces that truly empower us, or ones that replicate the very hierarchies we claim to resist? My hope is that this moment serves as a wake-up call. Not to double down on exclusion, but to rethink what “empowerment” should look like. Because real empowerment does not come from silencing, shaming, or shutting doors. It comes from courage; the courage to disagree, to listen, and to remain open even when it’s uncomfortable.
So yes, I was banned. I was maligned. But I remain committed to building what SoMeDocs was always meant to be: a place where physicians are heard, truly heard. Not just when they fit in, but especially when they don’t. Because medicine doesn’t need another cult. It needs community.
If building a platform that lowers barriers, amplifies physician voices, and levels the playing field is “opportunistic”, then yes, I’ll gladly wear that badge.
