Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, Tiktok — exciting places to be where you never get bored. Right? Not for me. For the last ten years, I have not had any social media accounts except WhatsApp (necessity) and LinkedIn — which is strictly work related and I show up on it once a month (or lesser if I can help it). When the fourth person this week asked me why I’m not on Instagram, I decided to pen down my thoughts.
I find Instagram pretty impressive. I adore some of the filters, and its amazing how easily people are able to put their work out there and instantly make waves. There is some great content on the platform, and so much I could learn from. So why am I still not on it?
For starters, the content that I view online is carefully filtered — I do not watch videos on YouTube or WhatsApp or pick up a book, movie or article unless I am absolutely certain it will benefit me and aligns with my bigger goals in life. Social media may add to the noise, interfere with my solitude and I might feel compelled to peruse material that I really don’t need to. Moreover, I am an extremely private person and prefer to remain hidden, or be found out accidentally by those who care enough to look.
Therein lies my problem with social media. The minute I sign up for an account, it suggests scores of people that I want nothing to do with. I do not want an old colleague to know how my trip to Istanbul was, or learn about her children’s sports day. It’s also yet another go-ahead for the internet giants to document every little detail on me, and bombard me with adverts I do not need to see.
As I flick through a distant cousin’s life at campus in Massachusetts I suddenly feel like I’m not smart/thin/rich/ (fill the gap) enough and my kids don’t have the perfect hair, clothes or smiles and do not play rugby or swim for the state team to boot. I don’t know about you but social media pulls me into an unfortunate comparison, a sort of rat race where my family and I never feel good enough. One could argue that I strictly connect with only those people or causes that I truly care about but it’s tempting to accept follows and friend requests and I’d look very unpopular with only 20 friends or followers.
I did sign up for Instagram some five years back but a parent of one of my students wanted to follow me. I got a little freaked out. I had set up a bogus account from a bogus email but he still found me? Anonymity please? I ended up going off Instagram in just three days.
Let’s be honest, attention online feels good; a few likes and followers really wouldn’t hurt. I could support people too. But then I remember the dangers of social media addiction and the dopamine rush I associate with likes and comments, and how worthless I can feel when my post doesn’t do well. There’s this constant pressure to produce something completely brilliant to impress people, over and over again or risk feeling miserable. I’d like to remind myself — I am not here to impress people, and my own ‘like’ and respect of myself is what actually matters.
The only thing that I can see in favour of Instagram and its equally convincing siblings is that the work I produce can benefit more people if I were on social media. But then again, if created with the right intention, I have noticed that meaningful work can still be effective. While I may not be quite the social media star, I would like to think that whatever little effort I have made has been sincere and might have made the impact it was intended for, with or without my own social media accounts. Wouldn’t it be completely ironic if I requested you to please share and like this piece on social media?
— Mehmudah Rehman is a Dubai-based freelance writer
