Imagine you're walking down the street when a man you don't know sticks a microphone in your face. The worse this moment goes for you, the better the video does for him.

Would you say the right thing? Are you sure? Would you bet your life on it?

Say you answer a question as a joke.  Say you're caught off guard. Say you immediately regret what you said. Then you open your phone and realize that moment has been posted for millions of strangers to watch, share, comment on, and turn into content.

I knew that it happens. I never thought it would happen to me.

MY STORY

"If they were both falling off a cliff at the same time, who would you save: your husband or your best friend?"

"My best friend," I answered. "Because he's been with me through everything. [BLEEP] my husband. He can figure it out."

WRONG ANSWER. Or at least, that's what the world decided. It didn't matter that I hadn't had my coffee yet. That I was in a petty fight with my husband at the time. That I naturally have a dry sense of humor and was, frankly, joking.

I was a woman who'd "chosen another man over my husband."  That's all the world saw me as.

And saw me, they did. The video amassed over 25 million views across platforms as the interviewer mocked (and even publicly exposed) my desperate pleas to take down the video.

Hundreds of thousands of comments flooded in calling me names, attacking my looks, and worst of all, accusing me of infidelity. Of betraying the very person I care about the most.

Few marriages could withstand this wildly intensified level of public scrutiny. Facing pressure from his friends, family, colleagues, and — although he would deny it, the comment section — my husband chose to separate from me. My best friend has gone no contact at his wife's request.

One "wrong answer." One stubborn interviewer. And suddenly, my entire life: derailed.

THE PROBLEM

Street interviews have exploded across social media, and new technology like smart glasses is making it easier than ever to record people in public. But the people being filmed have no control over what happens next.

One awkward interaction shouldn't follow someone online indefinitely. Being in public shouldn't mean surrendering control of your identity online.

THE SOLUTION

We're calling on TikTok and Instagram to create a clear, accessible process that allows people prominently featured in street interviews and similar creator content to request removal when they did not consent to the video being published.

Platforms already have systems for reporting content. They should give the person whose face, voice, and identity are being used a meaningful way to say: I don't want this online.

As wearable cameras and viral street content become more common, this problem is only going to grow — unless we do something about it. I wasn't the first person to have my life upended by a man with a $20 microphone and entitlement issues. But I hope to be one of the last.

Sign this petition to demand that TikTok and Instagram give people more control over how their image is used online. Our faces shouldn't become someone else's content forever just because we stepped outside.