Yes to Social Media?

Telling the story of a life through social media is nearly impossible. The assumptions made about a person, the gaps filled between posts, are gigantic leaps of imagination.  No one is telling the whole truth in their accounts -- no one could. In a way, we're all producing our own little reality shows, watched by a couple hundred of our acquaintances every day. And in the same way producers cut 500 hours of footage down to 10, we are essentially compiling a highlight reel of our  days/weeks/lives.

I took a little hiatus (about 4 months I think) from Facebook this year, and was ultimately peer pressured into coming back by the most unlikely of sources: family.  People were "worried" about me because I no longer had a social media presence.  When did being on Facebook become a sign of mental health? After a divorce, doesn't it seem healthier to have a little privacy?  I wasn't hiding anything, just needed some time to reflect.   Meanwhile, I heard others judging how much social media presence my ex was maintaining.  This is a no-win.  Post too much? You're in denial of your problems.  No pictures of you? You're ashamed of yourself. Too many selfies? You're conceited.  No check-ins? You're a shut-in. And turn off Facebook altogether?  Clearly, you're in a bathtub with a razor blade. But we do it to ourselves.  We put our lives out there for public consumption and judgement (good or bad)--and that's what we get.

I've had a Facebook account since early 2004.  In fact, I remember laying on a friend's bed at 3rd North NYU dorm, throwing a tennis ball against a wall while she created my account.  "What do I need this for?" I asked.  "I already have Myspace and Friendster." I believe these were my exact words.  Since then, I've documented almost every day of my life to some extent via Facebook. I certainly didn't set out with this intention, but ten years later, there it is; the chronicle of my life.   My relationship with Twitter was never as intimate. I know this might seem shocking, but I'm far too verbose to be satisfied with 140 characters. I love Instagram, though.  A picture is, after all, worth at least 1000.

All this to say, we use social media to tell the story of a life...leaving huge gaping holes where the negative might be.  But, there's an inherent flaw in this method of story-telling: it lacks cohesion.  As a natural story teller and a compulsive truth-teller, I might be the only person worried about such things; but I found this quite peculiar when I returned to the book of Face, post-divorce.  After all, my ex wife and I placed a significant amount of energy in building a profile in the digital realm and the end result was striking.  Most folks were nothing short of shocked when they heard the news. Even dear friends were confused until I pointed out that seeing someone every 30 days at a party, and experiencing 90% of the friendship through the internet does not exact a clear portrait.

 Now I'm faced with some kind of conundrum: how to proceed with my narrative.  I have no interest in filling in the gap, explaining the incredibly personal parts of the recent past to a thousand people.  But just jumping back into my story on a new high-note really irks the story-teller in me. It feels strange to ask people to cheer for you in the good parts of your life and ignore the bad parts.

The ironic thing is, when one reveals a "bad" part of life, the level of support received can be life-affirming. Long "lost" friends reach out with a reassuring word, a private message that reminds you they're still in your corner--and that feels great. Ultimately, I've decided to say yes, at some capacity, to keeping my social media presence alive. Despite the level of self-consciousness it introduces into my life, it is also a vehicle for support, love, and the sharing of good feelings among old friends.