I know how this goes. Everyone dresses up like they are going to take pictures for a Christmas card, bundled up in knits and scarves, and they go find a tree on a tree farm. Going thru Facebook has been like watching Gap commercials.
Honesty is, and has been, the most important quality to have. I have believed this for a really long time. This is what inspires me to ask Brooks random questions sometimes, sometimes much to his dismay. I admire those who live without apologies, being themselves completely. I won’t change who I am because I want people to like me.
That has been challenging for me in lieu of social media. I, along with many of you I’m sure, have this impulse to present a perfect picture of our lives, of ourselves. I’ve found myself deleting Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, on multiple occasions because of my frustration with this idea. I find myself thinking of how what I’m posting will be perceived. If it will show everyone that I’m a cool person. If people will like me more, will think more of me by giving them this glimpse of my life. However, a lot of the time, that glimpse isn’t an honest one.
Things are arranged perfectly so to be aesthetically pleasing. We want to show other our lives, but how much of our lives are we actually showing?
I’m not one for airing dirty laundry, being a Debbie-Downer with never-ending complaints, or for using social media as a soapbox or an excuse to voice your offense or arrogant opinions. I was taught that if you don’t have anything nice to say, to not say anything at all. I try to still live by this, and it’s kept me many friends and helped me make new ones. In light of all this, I still want to be honest about who I am, what I believe, and what my life looks like.
Then why must I display my life in the first place? So that those who love me far away can keep me close and be up to date with my life? However, this doesn’t seem to be the case. Those that I love that are far away tend to seem further away due to Facebook updates substituting heart to heart phone calls. The act of physically allowing an individual person into your life seems to disappear with the posts to the masses. To call a dear friend and spend a few hours on the phone fills me up and warms my heart more than any interaction we could’ve had online.
There’s something about a familiar voice of a friend you wish was closer.
If all these pictures and posts don’t strengthen relationships, then why am I expected to do so? I believe that I slowly become addicted to the instant affirmation that one feels with the likes and comments. Is this where I am finding my worth? When I get over 20 likes on an Instagram photo I feel loved and important. Is there where I want to be getting those feelings?
I can honestly tell you, I did not mean to write all this. I was just going to comment on how I felt the need to dress warm and comfy for finding a tree, challenging the status quo of looking like I walked off of the set of a Gap Christmas commercial and wear what I wanted to.
Also, I waited for this sweatshirt for two years. My friend Heather has an amazinggg Adidas sweatshirt that I’ve always envied and wanted. Two years ago I started looking for hers but since I couldn’t find it, I began the slow search of my perfect Adidas sweatshirt. And a month ago, while at the thrift store, I found the prettiest Adidas sweatshirt I have ever seen.
I have worn this sweatshirt for two weeks straight. I wish I was kidding. When you wait for something, it’s amazing once you’re on the other side. It’s amazing the love that have built up for it. It’s amazing how relieved you feel once you’ve found it. It’s amazing how incredibly cozy it is and how well it fits me. AND IT’S BLACK YOU GUYS.
So that was what I sat down and intended to write. Just those two little paragraphs. Apparently there was a bit more a brewing inside. I’ve pondered the importance and necessity of social media for a few years now. When I had deleted my Instagram and Facebook before, I felt like my life was finally mine again. If I wanted to share it with someone, it was my choice what I shared and with who. There was no obligation to show everyone how awesome my life was (when it usually wasn’t) or how perfect everything was going for me (when eight times out of ten, it was really hard).
Maybe I can see a bit more clearer right now because I’m genuinely happy and I feel like life isn’t a struggle for the first time in years. Don’t assume anything, I love my husband, my baby dog, and the past few years have been a joyful blast. But everyone has their own shit they have to go thru and mine was never one I could talk about because it’s awkward and it’s mine. Maybe one day we can write a book about it. Hopefully it won’t just be rambles like this post.
We will see what happens with all these thoughts. I have a feeling this isn’t where they ended. I have a feeling they will blossom into something that will be healthy and challenging (aren’t most challenging things often healthy?) and an incredibly good decision that I won’t have any regrets about in the future.
In the meantime my loves, I wish you the merriest of Christmases with all the joy that your heart can handle (and then some!).