Is it completely pathetic to say that watching Sex and the City has motivated me to start writing again? Maybe it’s the way Carrie ponders age old relationship questions in her underwear, typing away at her laptop while smoking a cigarette (INDOORS!!). Or the fact that she can actually enjoy her life while sharing it with the world through her column (the Instagram Stories of the olden days). Or maybe it’s just her clothes. Yes, that’s it. Maybe if I write more I’ll have a wardrobe like Carrie Bradshaw’s and my life will fall into perfectly scripted place.
Lately I’ve been having reservations as to how much I want to be online or share online. The thought of my digital footprint is a bit terrifying and incredibly overwhelming. For the past few months I stopped posting to my blog and even changed my attitude towards social media. In fact, I’ve been finding it very nice stepping away from Instagram—completely deleting it from my phone for weeks at a time. Whenever checking my phone or social media becomes too habitual, that’s when I know I need a break. A content cleanse if you will. Every day we are force fed content, and after while I feel like I’m getting too full. The food starts to taste a little bland, and staring down at my screen I think “Do I really care?”
On the flip side, another question arises, “Do they really care?” The answer is most definitely no. Nobody cares about your oat milk latte, or your Saturday morning hike, or that you’re vintage shopping with your best friend.
Okay that sounds a bit harsh. Of course, there are some people or brands that I’m invested in, and I know I have some followers that are invested in me. But what about the rest of it? What about those who are not my invested audience or that I don’t share a connection with. (Also, I should mention that my argument does not apply to those using social media platforms for work or as a strategic marketing tool—that’s a whole other story.)
Anyway, when it comes to my personal social media use I feel as though all that extra content kinda acts as those horrible-for-the-environment styrofoam peanuts used to fill the empty space in a parcel. I find myself sifting through this filler as I wait in line for a coffee, or before I go to bed, or in between classes. It’s exhausting, repetitive, and generally a waste of time. I’m over it.
I want to enjoy more. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in social media—following, sharing, posting, commenting, repeat. What is so compelling about sharing our lives on social media? How do I stop my compulsion to feed the '“feed”? Is it more important to capture memories and events only to release them on social media? Or can I find the value in creating memories that are all my own. Memories and events that are private, like little secrets between me and the universe. Maybe the question I should be asking is, “Why do I care?”
I guess what I’m trying to say is: knowing that nobody really cares has given me a new sense of freedom and purpose when it comes to my relationship with social media and having a presence online. If next to nobody follows my social media or reads my blog, do I really need to care about my content? If there’s no one to please, I might as well just please myself.
So here I am, back from my blog writing hiatus, ready to create freely and openly to an audience that is just me.