When I graduated from high school, I was absolutely thrilled to start a new journey. I was looking forward to celebrating with friends and family, making long-lasting memories during the summer months, and, most of all, I could not wait to detoxify my social media.
I consider myself a sociable person. I enjoy every moment with my loved ones, and I love hearing about their days and talking them through their problems. Although I like talking, it does not mean I’m fond of small talk. I’m often (too) dry and cut straight to the point, while getting frustrated in the process. I’ve always been a realist, and I’ve grown to take pride in knowing that I associate myself only with people who I care about and who I know care about me. I simply can’t be bothered by fake relationships, especially ones online.
For so long, I would scroll through my Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat, seeing post after post from someone I wouldn’t even say hi to if I passed by them at school. I sought something more from these relationships, but I knew my time was cut short because I was graduating. I knew that I wouldn’t talk to the majority of those people ever again and that I'm certainly not going to strike a conversation with them in public. I began to ask myself, “If I wouldn’t talk to them in person, then why would I care to be friends with them on social media?” It’s because we are over-connected.
Being hyperconnected to the world makes it seem as though we’re closer friends to people than we actually are. Although some people are genuinely interested in what others are doing, I refuse to let my social media accounts define me. By sharing and posting, we calculate our self-worth by analytics, qualifying our worthiness through the numbers of likes and retweets. Social media has become a competition.
One of my biggest problems throughout high school was that I was obsessed with social media. Seeing someone's post of them doing something cool was not too short of being traumatizing. I was constantly comparing myself to my classmates, and I eventually realized that it wasn't fair to me. I was having far too many bad days because people I didn't even know were posting something online. Graduating high school simply gave me the push to detoxify my life of people who were negatively impacting me—both directly and indirectly.
I could try and forge more genuine connections with my social media friends and followers, or I could continue being an egomaniac who needs to share everything with everyone I think I know. But I chose to share my online presence with my actual friends and family, scrolling through Facebook to see the accomplishments and life events from the people I truly care about.
It’s really nothing personal. I'm sorry if I have offended anyone in the process, but please know that by removing you, I have only bettered myself. I do not spend hours on end staring at a tiny, brightly lit screen. I have gained the ability to put my phone down in the presence of others, and it has made me more mindful. I have learned how to love myself, to be happy with my surroundings, and to be thankful for what each and every day presents me with. My social media is no longer a competition.
I'm also sorry if you base your self-worth on artificial, online relationships like I once did. I'm sorry if you deem someone else's worthiness by whether or not you can see their Instagram posts, or retweets on Twitter. Just know that it has nothing to do with the chance of me not liking you—it has to do with the fact that I never got to know you, and I respect my privacy just as much as I respect yours.
There is not a clear answer as to how one should manage their social media, and there definitely isn’t one that is right for everyone. What is definite, however, is that we should all pull back on the amount of information we share with each other online. We are obsessed with over-connecting and quantifying each others’ worth. We need to spend less time on social media and more time with the people we truly care about—the relationships we have in real-life.