A FAMILIAR feeling has returned in the last month which has been missing from life since March 2020. I purged my social media accounts, muted many, I even contemplated deleting the lot.
I kick myself for looking at stories on Instagram. As everyone on social media is back to 'living their best life', my good friend 'fear of missing out' is back in action. The 'show off posts', as I refer to them, are flooding social media timelines – again. The ads, the 'look what I just bought', the unrealistic perfection is back in all its glory.
These types of posts didn't completely disappear when we hit the brakes on life. But the content was different. I was constantly awe struck by the accomplishments shared on social media. I sometimes felt inadequate that I didn't have the energy to do home work-outs, tackle sourdough and the rest. Making it through from day to day was a huge success. Besides, a story about me cooking yet another meal was far from engaging.
Last week, I wondered if there were 25,000 people at the Tom Jones gig at Custom House Square, such was the volume of social media posts about being there. I suppose this is to be expected, that people will want to show the world that they're living their best life again as live music and outdoor gigs return to our lives – which is fantastic. But why have we adopted a practice of posting all major events in life on social media?
I had a day out with some of my best friends a couple of weeks ago. We never stopped talking and laughing, and ate really good food. The weather was incredible. I took one photo of us all. I was delighted with myself for living in and thoroughly enjoying the moment. It was a great day. For whatever reason, I didn't post the photo on social media.
When we were together that day, we inevitably got around to talking about the false existence being perpetuated on social media platforms. We agreed that navigating social media is difficult for ourselves, never mind for our children. We then progressed to few good old "Do you remember when?" stories which ended in laughter and a face-palm for at least one of us – usually me.
We agreed that we are delighted that our nights out at The Fort, Clubland and university were never documented in any way on social media. Remembering some of the carry on is quite sufficient. I have been told that a few photos from nights out in the late 90s still exist. I hope that they are never seen again.
I heard a discussion about social media on radio recently which made an interesting point. In 10 or 20 years time, when we know more about how it affects us, will social media be socially undesirable?
Recently, I have followed and interacted with people and feel like I know them, although we have never met. This is one of the reasons why I enjoy social media. Then there is the darker side. The faceless who I don't know, who troll.
No matter how strong a character you are, or how many times you tell yourself that "they must be very unhappy in life" – trolling can get to you. It is personal. It has happened to me in recent months and it has been difficult to take.
I have found myself looking to others who are on the receiving end of much worse cruelty online. They dust themselves down and get on with it. Remaining true to oneself is the only response to trolling. As I get older, the skin gets thicker.
I remember a very wise colleague once commenting that social media is only as good as who you follow. I often think that he was right.
I enjoy social media but am aware that it is a necessary evil my life. As we make our way towards living a normal life again, it might be a good time to reassess what we want from it. It is far from real, and perhaps we should give really living in the moment a try.
In order to keep my fear of missing out in check, I put a lot of effort into avoiding the temptation to aimlessly scroll through timelines and stories. Unless accounts are funny or informative, my right to mute will be exercised.
