I do not use social media (apart from tumblr)
Being born in 1993 meant that I had the experience of a pre-technology and post-technology childhood. I remember cassette tapes, VHS videos, GameBoy colour and the Nokia 3310. These were the early stages, but needless to say - it was still technology. As a young girl I had a well balanced upbringing of electronic games and imagination. I remember it was Christmas day in 1998, I was five years old and I could not believe that santa (my parents) bought me a GameBoy Colour. The game? TweetyPie’s High Flying Adventure. I loved it, and to this day I can still remember the iconic tune that played as the game was setting up.
So what was difference? I still had the sense of imagination. I wanted to knock on my neighbours doors and ask the parent if my friend could play out. I would be outside for hours on my bike, getting into mischief and exploring the abandoned factory down the road. The truth of the matter is that these days kids (and parents) have crossed a line with it all.
I am not one to name name’s or point the finger, but iPad’s and X-Boxes have become parents crutch. Not only are our children suffering major development issues as a result, but so are adults. When was the last time it was socially acceptable to give the guy at Starbucks your number without the uttermost fear of rejection? I can honestly say, never.
So who are we to blame? Steve Jobs? Mark Zuckerberg? The Kardashians? No. Unfortunately, we have become accustom. We are at the peak of advanced technology, and rightly so. But exactly when did we realise it was now okay to not encourage infants to play out? And why do we accept that Tinder is our only source for meeting somebody?
Which leads me to my next point. In the past six months I felt myself needing to click off social media. The kick wasn't there anymore, and the want to scroll for hours with no new posts had run it’s course. Needless to say, I continued on with the apps. They would be stored on my phone, but never used. September 1st is my birthday, I decided that as soon as I hit 24 then this would be the day that I deleted all of my social media. Some permanently, others deactivated. I spent the majority of my 24th in tears. Why? Because nobody wished me a happy birthday on Facebook.
I was at a loss, I waited and waited. 8AM went by. 9, 10, 11AM passed. Come 6PM I realised that it just wasn’t going to happen. Tears were cried and to be quite frank, I felt like utter shit. I had my closest friends text me, that is a grand total of 7 people (including my mum and sister). I share a birthday with two other girls from when I briefly attended middle school. They had friends posting collage pictures, boyfriends buying them Versace and family who shared funny stories. But me?
Not one damn comment.
Days before this happened I realised I had put my validity into Facebook. I made a (what I thought to be) funny post. My Facebook updates generally were intended to be comical and I would reach around 25 likes with additional comments. It made me feel good. Happy even. The final status had, to my horror, only gained one like. I left it on for a couple of hours, and I felt so embarrassed I removed it for no reason other than my joke was not validated by my Facebook friends.
Long before this happened I had made the conscious decision to remove Facebook from my life. I spent so much time wallowing in other peoples lives, I lost the ability to live my own. Since deleting my social media I read more, I’m proactive and present. I don’t look down at a screen anymore but walk around taking in every moment of where I am. I meditate. Not in the ‘Ommmm I need peace. Ommmm I fold my legs in a strange way’ I start my mornings with a three minute session, I clear my head and do some deep breathing exercises and prepare myself for the day. At night time, I do another three minute session. I sit back, relax and listen to the voice of the unknown meditation app human and empty my mind.
I won’t say that I am permanently removing myself from social media, this may or may not be the case.
