It’s just a picture of my Mai-Tai, honest. Don’t I have great Mai-Tais? Tell me I have great Mai-Tais.
“You were checked in at Trestles.” I did a double take as I read my Facebook notification. I was checked in? Alongside a picture of a surfboard leaned up against my friend’s car with a sandy wetsuit over the rail, all encompassed by a glowing filter, I saw that my name was attached to my buddy’s newest Facebook post. As the “likes” grew and the “wow, I didn’t know you surfed!” comments accumulated, I could feel my friend’s self-esteem grow to a point of unprecedented confidence. This was a weekend surfer to put it kindly, a bit of a novice, but at this moment he was a veteran waterman and an accomplished photographer. I held my tongue on the ride home, but I couldn’t help but think that this surf outing was merely for attention. Yet, would someone really wake up at dawn and drive roughly fifty miles round trip so they could post a quirky picture with a clever caption? As absurd as it may seem, I think so. As does research psychologist and Assistant Professor at Cornell University, Peggy Drexler, who wrote that, “Social media-induced angst is happening with increasing frequency” and “people are using social media to gauge how their friends and acquaintances feel about them.”
Social media has become a competition. It has become a popularity contest where participants go to great lengths in order to display how exciting their lives truly are. However, we have been fooled into believing what constitutes a great life. So we publish photos of expensive dinners, beautiful views from mountaintops, and exotic surf trips to show that our life is one that is surpassed by no one else’s. My life is the epitome of adventure and prestige; I am bold, daring, and I successfully capture the opportunities provided in my life. You, on the other hand, have a long list of followers, an extensive amount of photo albums, and your tweets are anticipated with bated breath. But while you were sleeping, I took a selfie in front of the sunrise, and for that I am better than you. This competition is seen day in and day out by people who can’t seem to do anything of significance without seeking immediate acknowledgment and approval from others. Chances are, you know someone just like this, or perhaps you may be suffering from this very disease. I call it Lookathowfuckingcooliamitis – more commonly known as narcissism.
Maybe these people simply love sharing their adventures with their family and friends. After all, there is nothing better than getting together with some close friends upon returning home from vacation and telling stories of epic escapades and showing pictures of pristine beaches. This I understand, but what does it matter if your 1,000 “friends” see the photo of you playing with a monkey while in Costa Rica? Call it selfish, but for God’s sake, enjoy your life for yourself and for no one else. Do what you want because you love it, not because it will impress Mark Zuckerberg. Let’s consider this: what if you put away the phone the next time you do something fun? What if you didn’t publish a picture of your boarding pass to Tanzania? What if you refrained from posting the photo of the sun basking on your face as you thoughtfully gaze across the Serengeti? Without the pressure of increasing your social media prestige, life and all of its adventures just may be more gratifying.
