thoughts on a rainy day

I don’t know what it is about rainy days, but I think they make people contemplative. What I have been thinking about today is why people are afraid to let their true selves show on social media.

I’m not talking about the people with the absolute whack job political comments and just nasty griping. Those are just your average keyboard warriors who have an online persona. The reason I am not putting them in the category of not letting their true self show, is basically their online personas, their keyboard warriorness if you will, is just a version of their own personalities.

Of course these are the people who say that I’m hiding. Well maybe hiding in plain sight, because basically it’s most simply put that I choose to be selective about with whom I want to interact. I feel absolutely no compunction to engage with perfect strangers who strike me the wrong way. That’s my right, and I always find it amusing that they think because I write a blog that they should have unlimited access to me personally.

I have a friend who has clinical depression and as part of her current round of therapy she’s been blogging. It’s raw and it’s beautiful and I applaud her for telling her truth because what she’s doing is hard. But luckily for her she’s not already known as a blogger, so she can write her truth. She doesn’t have people who perceive her as the antichrist. That’s a gift, and I envy her that.

I am viewed as the antichrist by so many. At the end of the day I really don’t care, but it’s one of those things you just think about once in a while and you wonder what the lives of these people who are criticizing you is really like?

And the reason I’m wondering about that is because of the lives that some people wish to portray on social media. Like the people who want to be an influencer for whatever reason, or think they are an influencer. I’m still not exactly sure what influencers actually do. And I don’t know that you can actually be one if you’re over like the age of 35 or 40. Some of the ones who wish to portray themselves as influencers on social media who are closer to my age if not older seem to be only interested in the free stuff they can get. And these are all people that can afford to buy their own meals and go to parties without being comped.

Then there are the people who want you to always see how fabulous their lives are and how important they are. But are they? And are their lives fabulous or are they somewhat lonely?

On social media there are people who tell me every day what it is I should be writing about. And a lot of them are cuckoo for Cocoa puffs. Or they castigate me for writing about something. Why does it matter so much to people what I choose to write about? They are also free to write about whatever they want. But they don’t. They just tell me what to write about.

I’m also fascinated by the way people use social media day to day. For example there’s this whole thing with this social media outlet called “Only Fans.” I recently by accident discovered someone I know of (as in not a friend, just someone around) being on there. No, not Denise Richards or any other celebutarts, a fairly regular, albeit I think troubled person. And all I could wonder is would life ever get that desperate that you would degrade yourself in that way. Because I see it as the objectification of women, and a hard ugly thing. Someone chastised me and said it gave people an outlet to be independent content creators in the pornography industry.

Porn is not one of those things I have ever understood. It’s just not. Once upon a time many years ago I remember being in someone’s basement helping them sort stuff. And there was this giant box of videotapes. Literally full of the Debbie does Dallas and more titles. I remember looking at them like this isn’t a random playboy magazine this is a little extra and they told me they were holding the box for someone so his family didn’t see them. I never believed that because why would you hold onto a giant box of porn for someone?

Sociologically, I think we live in fascinating times. I think you have the truth people want you to see and what the actual truth might be. And the trend now seems to be to not be honest about how you were feeling about anything. Everything is unicorns farting rainbows. I don’t work that way, I don’t know about you.

But every time I will post some thing randomly about how I’m feeling on that particular day if it is not something super cheesy or unicorns farting rainbows or something that the average crowdsourcing social media user might consider acceptable, I can’t decide which is worse: the comments or the private messages. And what most people fail to comprehend is just because someone posts something on social media, it doesn’t mean they are in crisis or they are looking for advice. Sometimes they are just venting. Some of the people you see farting advice and opinions on everyone’s Facebook posts also might wish to stick to their side of the street and their messy lives that they think people don’t know about. I know I’m not being mean, sometimes you see these people and you just shake your head to yourself and say I can’t believe they just said that to so and so.

Like if I post how I’m feeling about my relationship with my mother ever. My relationship with my mother has never been easy. And that’s not because I dislike her or I don’t love her, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But I don’t think I’ve ever been the child she really wanted. My sister more fills that role, and that’s not saying anything or implying anything, it just happens to be the truth. She was the one who was able to have children, etc. I didn’t marry until later in life and was never able to have children.

I guess it makes me sad sometimes, because I’ve lived my entire life feeling like my mother doesn’t really see me. And that’s not because I’m a bad person or she’s a bad person, I just think she simply doesn’t understand me. Or doesn’t want to. She never reads anything I write, for example. Ask her, she’ll tell you she doesn’t have the time. It’s actually pretty funny to me. Because she was the one who always wanted me to write. And when I was younger I didn’t want to write.

When you grow up in what is categorized as a traditional childhood, you are supposed to grow up and become the adult that continues the traditional things. And if you deviate from your expected role, that’s a problem with a lot of peoples’ parents. I’m not the only one who has gone through this in my lifetime. But you’re not ever supposed to talk about it out loud, let alone post about how you’re actually feeling on social media.

I think that’s why I have been so sad about these ladies passing away that I call the great ladies of my childhood. A lot of them were my mother’s friends. Or the parents of some of my friends. But they were also my friends. And there is nothing greater than the gift that you can give someone else seeing them for who they are, not who you want them to be. These ladies always saw me and accepted me for who I am.

So if you think about this whole category of being seen, it just makes you wonder why people essentially put fake lives on social media as what is being seen. What is it the people are so afraid of? Is it so scary for people to see you for who you are? Or is it easier to pretend to be somebody else?

I also see people that go by on social media who seem to have this whole tough persona on social media. But is that who they really are, or is that who they want us to think they are because it’s easier for them to deal with life that way?

So when you show yourself on social media, do you feel uncomfortable sharing your actual truth? Is it easier to go along to get along? Is that something we should applaud in people, or should we encourage people to be who they actually are?

I don’t actually have the answers here. I am just throwing out some thoughts on a rainy day.

Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.

~ Oscar Wilde

Leave a Reply