by erika haveman
Before the world of social media the hundreds, or thousands, or hundred thousands of your followers would never know what you were up to in a day. It used to be that if you had a great hair day only the people you came in immediate contact with would have known it. It used to be that you’d go to the beach and shockingly run into that old friend from summer camp. It used to be that if you went to the Jays game you wouldn’t know your neighbour was there until a few days later when you were talking and put it all together. The reality is we no longer actually need human interaction because we can find out everything we need to know about each other through Instagram.
My first Instagram post was on April 1, 2012 – and it wasn’t even an April fools joke. When I look back on my first Insta-posts the filters I chose were awful, but my reason for posting was the same as it often is now. My hope was that my life would be presented as something interesting, I’d be seen as more attractive, and I’d be perceived as a really great person. “My life and myself and my strong work ethic are something worth being noticed by people,” was what my mind was telling me when I would open Instagram. I remember being really disappointed when I’d only get a couple of likes on a photo. It didn’t make sense to me – I had over 100 followers and I’m only getting 4 likes? What, am I not likeable? How do I need to present myself and my life as more attractive so more people like me? Even then something about social media was telling me I simply wasn’t good enough if people weren’t giving me the affirmation I expected.
As time crept on I started to notice that I’d find myself affected when I was, or was not, mentioned by other people in their Insta-posts, and, when stories were introduced, their Insta-stories. If nobody wrote a long, sentimental post about me for my birthday I’d wonder how I wasn’t good enough – it wasn’t even a question of “if” I was good enough. If I was at an event with people but didn’t make the series of photo’s they’d post I’d feel upset – unseen and unworthy, not beautiful and not cared for. On the flip side, when I was tagged in a post I’d feel a sense of accomplishment, like I’d arrived at some invisible new life marker that told me I was on the right path.
But is all of this really how we should be existing? Should my life really be a series of aesthetically pleasing photographs – or a hope to be in someone else’s heavily filtered and fought for photograph? As I began to think more and more about it I could definitely conclude social media can be a great point of connection. Living far from where I grew up I can see my friend’s kids grow, and once Instagram got the messaging feature I often find myself having small conversations with friends who before I was having zero contact with. But was this how I justified my use of something that was much more detrimental and fed into my already present brokenness?
I am pretty confident person, but I know if my view of myself is so easily affected by social media then I wonder about people who have grown up not knowing life away from it. If I am not consciously thinking, “I am not defined by what I see on Instagram,” then my view of myself is often defined by what I’m seeing.
All of this can be very confusing, so hear me when I say this: you are not defined by who sees you. Their affirmation can never fully satisfy. Don’t get me wrong, if Reese Witherspoon connected with me because of Instagram I’d be super hyped. But if I’m living for her, or anybody’s, response, then I’m not really living at all.
So I dare you – as I often do – to do things and just let the moment you’re in be it. Just let yourself be in all of the good moments (and bad moments). Just let yourself live without needing affirmation. Can I tell you a secret about your life? Your life is great, and I can affirm this to you simply by the fact that you’re alive and breathing and seeing and experiencing. That should be affirmation enough.
the rambling missionary 