In the wake of the tragic suicide of a former classmate, the communities around me are left shaken and confused. I think its only natural to feel trapped in your own mind, with an endless flood of thoughts and questions. As I spent my own time reflecting on prom pictures of me and the lost boy with eyes bluer than any water, I began to think of the epidemic that seemed to be drowning those around me, one that had almost taken my own life less than a year prior.

As I thought about my own struggle with depression, and the parallels it had to the beautiful blue-eyed boy, I thought about changes. What had changed that this form of death had become so much more common place. The answer that came to mind was social media, because that is what everyone blames our regression of our human souls on, the technological increases of the human mind. But as I continued to think to myself for days, there was no denying it was true. I had deleted my snap chat because of new phenomena like FOMO (fear of missing out) that the generations before mine had not had. I had stopped using Twitter for the fear of the new bullies, the sub-Tweeters; There had been times where I had stopped posting on Instagram, because I was scared that I didn’t have enough friends to reach the threshold of likes that meant a successful picture.

After addressing the flaws of others, I began to do the impossible, and address my own. I had started my own hashtags against people. I had left negative comments on every past picture of a friend’s ex. I had gone through people’s profiles pointing out what I thought their flaws were. I would look at another humans Instagram and deconstruct them down to the pictures and captions that I saw in front of me. I had always assumed I was a victim, but I was a villain as well. I realized if I was both of these conflicting sides to the same argument, were others, too? I couldn’t imagine I was the only one who’s angelic glow was dimmer than they had thought. I realized most people were both and may not realize it, because I had not realized it myself.

The destructive properties of social media are well known. Is the problem that its hard in the target age range of social media to identify yourself as the bad guy? Taking responsibility during the teenage years is nearly impossible when social media has created new bullies, new victims and new rules. We have become pioneers traveling a new technology-based world. Every new civilization needs order and rules in order to survive, so why should the world of social media be any different?

If there is no president of social media, it must be on our individual shoulders to create change. I’m a naturally anxious person. I have always cared too much about what the person next to me thought of me, and have never thought too highly about myself. I am normally terrified to say the wrong thing. I'll preplan what I am going to say for an eternity in my head and then when the words finally leave my mouth, they become wrong again. I am not particularly brave, so I went to three high schools to avoid those who had intimidated me. I spent most of my life seeking out the flaws in others to protect myself from my own reflection. I had just figured out my own lack of innocence, but as I looked at the piercing blue eyes of my late classmate my shoulders seemed to get a lot stronger.

If life has taught me one thing, it's that it is short. What has recently changed is that you can live forever on social media. We have been gifted with a platform that can keep our legacy much longer than our human bodies can. I want my grandkids to look on social media and think that their grandmother was beautiful, but I want them to think above anything else that their grandmother was kind, compassionate, empathetic and a leader. Social media can be an amazing tool in spreading positivity. We can post positivity. I can shape my own legacy by commenting on my friend’s pictures telling them what beautiful people they are. I can allow the captions of my own pictures to be more positive than just a drunk pun. I can post pictures of people I really care about and not the girl I met in the PNC Arts Center bathroom line. I can change my perspective and remember that every picture is how that individual views themselves as beautiful, possibly building their own confidence.

I can promise to post positively. We can all promise.

I promise on behalf of the boy who was my first prom date, who’s legacy is as soulful and pure as his eyes. I promise on behalf of all those who have felt pain when they should have felt positivity. Lastly, I promise on behalf of myself, because we all deserve to be content with the legacy we leave.