Some of you have noticed I wrote a blog post yesterday, then
took it down. Because people have been asking, I wanted to address it with a
sweet follow-up post. I’ll warn you now, it’s not as witty as I want it to
be.
My post yesterday asked the question and generated
interesting conversation about whether or not we should be honest when our
lives aren’t exactly perfect. The post was prompted by the myriad complaints
I’ve been hearing about people not being real on social media—always presenting
the pretty picture of their perfect lives.
So I’ve been hearing that a lot, mulling it over, wondering
how I feel about it all. Then, as luck would have it, my husband really pissed
me off. It seemed like a great opportunity to bring up the topic. Should I or
should I not tell my audience that I’m really, really mad?
Now if you missed the post, let me explain that I didn’t say
what he did and I didn’t invite commentary on his actions—I merely asked if it
does harm or good for me to get on my blog and say: Eric made me mad today.
After some great conversation on the topic, I decided to
take the post down because the question I was asking was intrinsically tied to
my husband. I couldn’t really ask readers to think of the question outside of
the context that I was mad at him, specifically.
But, guys. My question was still important and the
conversation led me to what I think we all knew all along: false pretenses have
consequences, both for the pretenser (sure, that’s a word) and the pretensee
(yep. that too).
Truly, I’m all for being upbeat and cheerful on social
media. As one commenter mentioned, what you share depends on the level of
intimacy you want to have with your audience. Turns out, I don’t need to be
intimate with most people I connect with on social media. Do you?
Aren’t you actually really bothered by people who share the
bad personal stuff? Because I am. I always think, hey random person I went to a
party with ONCE—why am I reading about your bowel movements or your terrible ex
or your miserable job? I don’t even know
you.
I don’t even know you.
So…does that mean I’ve decided I’m on team Sunny Sunny
Sunshine? Please God no. That doesn’t suit my personality AT ALL. I very much
love you, Sunny Sunny Sunshiners. I read and like your posts because I am
seriously happy you’re happy. And I appreciate your reminder that I’m happy
too. Please, do what you do because I just can’t.
Sorry, Debbie Downers. I’m not with you either. Not because
I don’t see the merit in what you’re doing, but because I’m now aware of the
intimacy Debbie Downing imposes on the audience. It’s not fair for a DD to ask
her audience to be on her side in a relationship battle or spend our days
bummed about her bad trip to the gyno. We can’t give DDs genuine support
because we don’t have any context. And who wants support that isn’t genuine?
Where I’ve landed on the whole thing is this: Being a Sunny
Sunny Sunshiner sets a standard that makes life for Debbie Downers even harder.
Being a Debbie Downer bugs people. And you know what? All that is fine with me.
Be who you are, do what you do, and enjoy the feeling of having a place where
you can voice what you want to voice and someone out there will respond.
A quick note to those of you who just use social media to say or post funny stuff that makes me laugh:
Thank you. You just keep doing what you're doing, buddy. I like your style.
And as for me? I’m going to choose to speak the truth when
it matters. I’m challenging myself to use my voice when it speaks to something
Desmond Tutu said:
If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have
chosen the side of the oppressor.
I think we DO need to be more honest in our social media.
But honest about things that should matter to everyone—about those situations
of injustice Tutu speaks of. So in my next posts, I’m going to use my blog to
stir up conversation about things that really matter, at least to me. I’m going
to do it with my signature snark, but I’m going to do it. Because I believe in
honesty. I just think I can use it for better purposes than saying: I’m mad at
Eric.
Which, if anyone is wondering, is still halfway true (although he did bring home personally cut flowers and an adorable pumpkin). So I will
still take your raised fists, your hugs, and your excellent commentary on this
topic!
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