There's a photo of me on Facebook, smiling happily with three of my friends. I'm on the end. It's a little blurry, somewhat grainy, and one of us may or may not be holding a glass of wine. It was posted on February 2, 2014. Superbowl Sunday.
Once a photo of you is up on Facebook, it's up on Facebook. For all to see. And like. Comment. Form opinions about. Create imaginary scenarios. Jump to conclusions. It wasn't my photo and I didn't post it, but I am in it, clearly happy to be where I was at that moment: with my friends, laughing, having a good time... in the hot tub.
The light is glaringly bad as it reflects off the water in the early dark, our unfocused faces are all smiling too wide, and the hot-tubbly mist is swirling everywhere. It's an unremarkable, not particularly special portrayal of four friends hanging out on a Sunday. It was an enjoyable afternoon of football and fun but nothing worth remembering happened (other than the Broncos lost), and there is little to mark that day out of the hundreds that came before or after.
Except for that photo.
I remember that unmemorable, out-of-focus photo because soon after Superbowl Sunday a lovely woman I peripherally know stopped me in passing.
"You're Nicki, right?"
"Yeah..."
"You know, I think I've been seeing you on Facebook. Don't you write a blog?"
Before I could reply, "And weren't you just in a hot tub?"
I remember that conversation, and consequently the affronting photo, because the frantic butterfly wings of my heart took flight as I fleetingly worried she'd wrongly assume I led a life of happy hot-tub leisure and little more. That she'd immediately imagine a scenario of Nicki-the-Stay-at-Home-Mom doing nothing more meaningful than writing a bit of a blog, and drinking a bit of wine (not that there's anything wrong with that) because that's what it looked like that day, on Facebook.
I know. So what. Even if it's true, so what.
Except it's not true. A life of blog-writing and wine sounds definitely delightful, but is probably not true for anyone.
Scattered amongst horrific news stories of beheadings and shootings and a world gone mad, between the images of a beautiful daughter who is suddenly ill and a son who is suddenly missing, are apparently perfect portrayals of laughter and fun, parties and puppies, new homes, new cars, dream jobs... and we can't help but feel the tendrils of envy and longing whisper against our skin.
Sharing on Facebook and other social media is how we connect. How we feel connected. Another way for us to build community, to feel part of something bigger than ourselves. It's human nature to want and need contact with other humans, validation and support from friends. To share our happy times, our sadness, our pride, joy, love and disappointment. It's how we feel alive. And not alone.
And sometimes it's how we feel so alone.
"Friends are for Facebook," my husband says when I show him glowing photographs of exotic vacation locales (and by exotic I mean anywhere else), weddings both lavish and simple, smiling families all in beautiful shades of white. He says it again when I worry out loud that an article I posted doesn't seem to be getting much traffic, when I wish I hadn't made that inappropriate comment on that friend's photo.
"Friends are for Facebook," with a wry smile and a hint of cynicism.
He is reminding me to keep perspective. Reminding me that I don't know what chaos and imperfection occurred before that perfect photo was taken. Reminding me that the words and comments and likes and shares presented so neatly in minimalist grays and blues on the tiny screen in my hand are created by real-life people with feelings and hopes and wishes, just like me.
Friends are for Facebook. And Facebook flattens our lives. Makes our messy, rich, complicated, euphoric, depressing, wonderful and disappointing lives shallow and one-dimensional. What you see is what you get, we think. We forget what's behind the screen. And sometimes in our attempts to feel more connected and less alone, we feel lonelier than ever.
I scroll through my Facebook feed and see those mostly smiling faces, seemingly adorable and well-behaved children, read those oh-so-positive status updates... and remember: the custody battle that might be happening for those kids, the complicated relationship behind that golden sunset, the struggles we endure every day. Everybody is struggling.
What you can't see in that moment of misty, happy-go-lucky togetherness in the hot tub on Superbowl Sunday are the swirling sadness and deep despair that surrounded me before that day. The beautifully captured moments are definitely truthful moments, but I don't forget what's behind them. Nobody I know leads a life of only rainbows and butterflies, hot tubs and wine.
Friends are for Facebook. But also, friends are for Life.
This post originally appeared on Red Boots. You can follow Nicki Gilbert on Twitter and on her blog.
from Healthy Living Blog on The Huffington Post http://ift.tt/1aqDuK7
Once a photo of you is up on Facebook, it's up on Facebook. For all to see. And like. Comment. Form opinions about. Create imaginary scenarios. Jump to conclusions. It wasn't my photo and I didn't post it, but I am in it, clearly happy to be where I was at that moment: with my friends, laughing, having a good time... in the hot tub.
The light is glaringly bad as it reflects off the water in the early dark, our unfocused faces are all smiling too wide, and the hot-tubbly mist is swirling everywhere. It's an unremarkable, not particularly special portrayal of four friends hanging out on a Sunday. It was an enjoyable afternoon of football and fun but nothing worth remembering happened (other than the Broncos lost), and there is little to mark that day out of the hundreds that came before or after.
Except for that photo.
I remember that unmemorable, out-of-focus photo because soon after Superbowl Sunday a lovely woman I peripherally know stopped me in passing.
"You're Nicki, right?"
"Yeah..."
"You know, I think I've been seeing you on Facebook. Don't you write a blog?"
Before I could reply, "And weren't you just in a hot tub?"
I remember that conversation, and consequently the affronting photo, because the frantic butterfly wings of my heart took flight as I fleetingly worried she'd wrongly assume I led a life of happy hot-tub leisure and little more. That she'd immediately imagine a scenario of Nicki-the-Stay-at-Home-Mom doing nothing more meaningful than writing a bit of a blog, and drinking a bit of wine (not that there's anything wrong with that) because that's what it looked like that day, on Facebook.
I know. So what. Even if it's true, so what.
Except it's not true. A life of blog-writing and wine sounds definitely delightful, but is probably not true for anyone.
Scattered amongst horrific news stories of beheadings and shootings and a world gone mad, between the images of a beautiful daughter who is suddenly ill and a son who is suddenly missing, are apparently perfect portrayals of laughter and fun, parties and puppies, new homes, new cars, dream jobs... and we can't help but feel the tendrils of envy and longing whisper against our skin.
Sharing on Facebook and other social media is how we connect. How we feel connected. Another way for us to build community, to feel part of something bigger than ourselves. It's human nature to want and need contact with other humans, validation and support from friends. To share our happy times, our sadness, our pride, joy, love and disappointment. It's how we feel alive. And not alone.
And sometimes it's how we feel so alone.
"Friends are for Facebook," my husband says when I show him glowing photographs of exotic vacation locales (and by exotic I mean anywhere else), weddings both lavish and simple, smiling families all in beautiful shades of white. He says it again when I worry out loud that an article I posted doesn't seem to be getting much traffic, when I wish I hadn't made that inappropriate comment on that friend's photo.
"Friends are for Facebook," with a wry smile and a hint of cynicism.
He is reminding me to keep perspective. Reminding me that I don't know what chaos and imperfection occurred before that perfect photo was taken. Reminding me that the words and comments and likes and shares presented so neatly in minimalist grays and blues on the tiny screen in my hand are created by real-life people with feelings and hopes and wishes, just like me.
Friends are for Facebook. And Facebook flattens our lives. Makes our messy, rich, complicated, euphoric, depressing, wonderful and disappointing lives shallow and one-dimensional. What you see is what you get, we think. We forget what's behind the screen. And sometimes in our attempts to feel more connected and less alone, we feel lonelier than ever.
I scroll through my Facebook feed and see those mostly smiling faces, seemingly adorable and well-behaved children, read those oh-so-positive status updates... and remember: the custody battle that might be happening for those kids, the complicated relationship behind that golden sunset, the struggles we endure every day. Everybody is struggling.
What you can't see in that moment of misty, happy-go-lucky togetherness in the hot tub on Superbowl Sunday are the swirling sadness and deep despair that surrounded me before that day. The beautifully captured moments are definitely truthful moments, but I don't forget what's behind them. Nobody I know leads a life of only rainbows and butterflies, hot tubs and wine.
Friends are for Facebook. But also, friends are for Life.
This post originally appeared on Red Boots. You can follow Nicki Gilbert on Twitter and on her blog.
from Healthy Living Blog on The Huffington Post http://ift.tt/1aqDuK7
My passion for love and life has made me to take to the Internet to
ReplyDeletewarn Internet users particularly those in search of solution to their
problems to beware of and avoid comments about spell caster that can
use their magical power in helping you out with your problems. I don't
want anyone to be fooled because i was a victim of this fraudsters
who claimed to be spell casters. I am Wimberly William and i was having
a difficult time in my relationship as my wife couldn't give birth to a
child. Although my wife and i loved each other very much as it were.We kept on
hoping and for 6 years there weren't any sign of breakthrough .As days
goes by,i will always weep because at that time i was really down.
Even though my wife tried to always be by my side,only time would
tell as we couldn't cope with pressure coming from friends and she had to leave
me for another man. I was now left to face my problem alone even
though my mom would always talk to me and console me on phone. Things
went from bad to worse when i was sacked from the private organization
i was working because been happily married was a criteria that was
needed and that i was now lacking owing to my failure to have a child that has made my
wife leave me for another man leaving me single. I kept on
searching and hoping i would find a solution to my problem but there
wasn't any coming. I contacted lots of spell caster as i saw them on
the Internet but all were scams as they demanded money from me
frequently and nothing happened. i had to relocate from Texas city
United state to Jamaica where my mom was residing and also because i
became racially abused because of my color .I spent 4 months with my
mom and together we kept on looking for solution still to no avail.
There came a faithful day when i met my high school mate who knew i
was happily married and living in Texas city United state with my
wife and had to ask why i flew back to Jamaica. I explained my
problem to her and with sincere desire in wanting my problems solved
she led me to DR JAMIN ABAYOMI. Although i was doubtful but soon as i
explained my problem to him,he laughed and gave me a maximum of
72 hours for my wife to come back and for she go give birth. I
did all i was asked to do which included me traveling back to Texas
city United state. I traveled back to Texas city united state,on my
arrival during the early hours of the morning,my phone rang and guess
who?it was my wife who called asking for my forgiveness and saying
she was coming back home. She came few hours later and on her knees she
pleaded for forgiveness. Although it was a tough decision for me to
make because of all the pains i have been through. I love her and
needed her back so i had no option but to forgive her. We sat together
and while she was resting her head on my chest we had romantic
conversation and talked about things that we have never spoken about
and like husband and wife the urge came to have sex and we had sex for
a very long time that day. The next day which was still within the
72 hours given by DOCTOR JAMIN ABAYOMI she felt something different in her
body and immediately she went for a check up and to our greatest
surprise,she was pregnant. How possible could this be but it happened
and am very thankful also my skin color that made me racially abused
was changed to the preferred and now we are now happily married again
and no racial discrimination. All thanks to DR JAMIN ABAYOMI for his
solution.
ARE YOU FACED WITH SIMILAR PROBLEM OR ANY KIND OF PROBLEM.PLEASE KNOW
THAT DR JAMIN ABAYOMI isn't on the Internet so kindly contact him via
EMAIL: drjaminremedy@outlook.com