Since 3 July, I’ve posted five times on Instagram. I’ve posted 12 tweets. For someone who usually posts a daily #BeThankful on both platforms and actively uses them, this is unusual behaviour. But taking this step back is absolutely something I’ve needed to do. I’ve needed to take some time out from the world. To take stock. To look after me. To have some very much needed R&R. This was what I shared with the world on Wednesday when I decided I was going to start dabbling on social media again. With a picture of a quote from one of our favourite John Mayer songs “I’m in repair. I’m not together but I’m getting there…”
Because I am getting there. And as I reflect on the past month, I can honestly say that I have missed being “social.” Not to begin with, because social media can be a double edged sword. As much as I like it, seeing people celebrating wedding anniversaries, moving house, having fun in couples, going on holiday or photos of dads with their children can at times just be too painful. It’s a reminder of what I’ve lost. But over the last week or so I’ve found myself wanting to start using these platforms again. Partly because I consider myself to now be in repair with a brain somewhat functioning again (rather than being at rock bottom) but also because it’s become a part of who I am. I know social media is an intensely personal preference. Some people love it, some hate it and some are in between. And don’t get me wrong. As much I as enjoy using it, I don’t profess to be a social media influencer (mainly because I don’t even know what that means!) but I do like and value the platform social media gives me (even if at times Instagram confuses me!)
It’s why I made a very conscious decision to use social media as a way of telling our story when Mr C fell ill last year. It would have been easy to hide away and not use it, but that’s just not who I am. I firmly believe social media isn’t just about the positives. Life isn’t cupcakes and rainbows all the time so why should your social media feeds be this way? But more than that. When Mr C fell ill, we were right at the start of the first lockdown. There were no such things as support bubbles or childcare bubbles. The only support I was able to get was via phone calls, via messages, via Zoom calls or via social media. The wealth of love and support I got was overwhelming. I’ll forever be grateful for it. One of my colleagues and friends sent me a Twitter DM and asked how I was on a particularly bad day. I answered honestly how I was feeling, and she then promised to check in on me every single day. She did. It meant a lot. And despite the physical loneliness and pain of what I was going through, I can remember thinking at the time how fortunate I was that all this was happening to me at a time when technology made that contact that much easier. I knew that via any number of platforms, there would always, always be someone I could reach out to if I needed to. And just type what I was thinking. It was invaluable. Why? Because when your world is falling apart and you don’t know which way is up, actually speaking to people can be so, so hard. I lost count of the phone calls I had when people would ask how I was, and I’d not be able to answer or would just simply cry on them. I was always so very mindful of how hard that must have been for those at the other end of the phone. Unable to do anything but merely try and offer small words of comfort to a woman whose entire life had been torn apart.
Yet despite this decision, there has been so much over the last 16 months that I haven’t shared. Because so much is incredibly personal to me and my family. What you see on any of my platforms is the snapshot of my life that I am comfortable to share. There is so very much more to me than this but I actually feel it would be quite dull if I shared everything, because in all honesty, I’m just a 40 year-old trying to get by and I really don’t do very much. If I was to post every time I have a wobble or a cry or a bad day or even just something I consider a small win, it really would get quite monotonous. But the people who know me, know that despite whatever I choose to share on social media, these everyday occurrences, falling apart and good moments are still happening. But I also don’t post about them all because I don’t necessarily want to be reminded of them in years to come via Facebook Memories or Timehop. I’m regularly sideswiped when memories of family activities or time with Mr C crop up, I don’t need to be reminded in years to come of how ridiculously difficult and heartbreaking my life has been since 22 March 2020. Because without a shadow of a doubt these feelings and memories will stay with me for as long as I live. Instead, I want to be reminded of the new memories my daughter and I are creating. What we’re doing to honour Mr C. Things that are making me smile. Yet, unwittingly, to the outside world this seems to create a parallel reality. A few months ago, I had someone tell me via a Facebook post that I am “always so happy.” Seven months after my husband died. At that point I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d have used the phrase “so happy” and so quickly refuted that statement on the post. I’ll openly acknowledge that I share aspects of what we’re doing, and that I am having to continue living my life. For me. For my daughter. But the phrase that was used to describe this started to make me think about the perception social media inadvertently creates vs. reality.
As I’ve said, I’ve been incredibly lucky with the support I’ve had via social media. But for me what is interesting is the different approach people have to what they say on social media vs. their everyday actions. I’ve had people comment that they will “always be there for me” but then not return phone calls or acknowledge messages I send. Forgive me if I’m missing something, but if you’re telling the social media world that you’ll always be there for me but aren’t in the real world isn’t that a bit of a disconnect? Now don’t get me wrong, I know only too well how much of a juggle life can be trying to fit everything in and stay in touch, but little things like this get me thinking.
I’ve had people de-friend me since Mr C died. I’ve had people delete posts they’ve made where I’ve offered a different perspective to their viewpoint. I struggle to understand why. Isn’t the clue in the title? Social media? Isn’t the whole point of it to be able to share different views, have conversations and generally be social? Again, I don’t profess to know the exact reason that I’ve been de-friended or why posts have been deleted, but from my point of view if you can’t offer a different perspective when people make posts, then I’m not sure it’s worth it. It’s like in any other social setting. I can spend evenings with friends, family or colleagues and we can have discussions. Not everyone will think the same, not everyone will agree and there will always be different viewpoints, but the difference is you can’t just delete something you’ve said in person and try to pretend it never existed. Why should social media be any different to the real world? I love a good debate, I don’t expect everyone to have the same opinion as me and in fact I’d hate it if we suddenly all had to agree and be the same. That would make the world an incredibly dull place in my view!
But, what makes me most sad, is that on more than one occasion this year I’ve used the phrase that my daughter “is for life, not just for social media.” She’s only 11 and, despite her constant badgering for TikTok, I don’t yet allow her to be on any social media platform. Mainly because, in my opinion, she doesn’t have the emotional maturity for it. She’s a child. She’s trusting. She takes people at face value. She believes people when they say they’re going to do something. So, if she had seen half of the comments I’ve had on the various posts I’ve made over the last 16 months, she’d have had far greater expectations of people. And right now, she’d be feeling incredibly let down. Because it’s very easy to put a comment or a like on a post I make but the reality is that she doesn’t see these and needs real-life support. And while I’ll always be so very grateful for all the virtual support I’ve had, and will continue to receive, over the past few months I’ve realised that I’ve also needed that real-life support more than ever. And I’d underestimated just how much until Mr C’s Memorial Service last month.
It will probably come as no surprise to those who know me or who are familiar with grief and bereavement that this Memorial Service is what ultimately led me to withdraw from social media for a while. Quite simply there was too much in my brain in the lead up to it, and in the immediate aftermath to even begin to think about posting content. But over the last month or so since I’ve taken a step back, I’ve also realised how much of a part of my everyday life social media has become. How it can actually be used for good and have a great impact. When your friend has a baby but because of all the various lockdowns you can’t physically visit them, you can still see news about them and watch them grow (we’ve finally be able to meet the baby who is now 13 months old and every bit as gorgeous as social media would have you believe). When you post a blog and a stranger takes the time to send you a message to say “I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I wanted to let you know you’ve helped a stranger today.” When you feel like the only person in the world to have a problem and post on the private Widowed and Young group and receive a ton of encouragement and support to reassure you that you’re not alone. When someone from the other side of the world messages you because she’s heard your podcast, noticed the similarities of your stories and subsequently becomes a friend you can turn to. I could go on. But ultimately social media has, and I’ve no doubt will, continue to have a positive influence on my life.
So, as I continue my repair of me and head back to work tomorrow, I know that my social media usage will be increasing again. Because I’ve missed my work Twitter family. I’ve missed the banter with all the Jason fans (although admittedly this has been on the increase over the past few days). I’ve missed doing a daily #BeThankful. I’ve missed engaging with people that I’d never normally come into contact with. But if I’ve learnt anything during my time away, it’s that as the world starts to open up again there is absolutely a place in my life for both social media and the real world. I don’t want to withdraw and hide away from the real world because it’s easier to hide behind words and pictures. I need physical and real-life contact. I value social media interaction more than I can really articulate and wouldn’t change it for the world, but I will always, always need the phone calls, the messages, the chats and catch ups. But most importantly. The hugs. I know that as I work through this current phase of my grief, I’m going to need a lot of hugs and hand holding. And you simply can’t get that through watching the likes and comments increase on a social media post.
Life is a rollercoaster 