There's nothing like a good Fall Out Boy concert to get the deep thoughts rolling. This past weekend, my best friend and I climbed up to the nosebleed section to witness the touring foursome belt out their iconic lyrics and set the stage ablaze with that electric feeling you get when music gets in your blood. It was everything concerts are supposed to be. Loud. Powerful. Unforgettable. We sang along to every word and danced like the flailing, adoring fangirls that we are.
However, we couldn't help but notice that we were often times alone in that enthusiasm. The people in front of and around us seemed glued to their seats, watching the concert through the screens on their phones instead of taking in the excitement around them. Now, I know that everyone enjoys things differently and I get that not all people need to head bang and scream lyrics in order to have a meaningful time. To each their own, right? And obviously you have to take pictures and some videos. We were in the same room as Patrick Stump, for crying out loud. I was having my own awesome time and that was all that mattered in the end. But still, phone screens illuminated the space around us, filled with people trying to capture the perfect image to share with the world. I will even admit that there was a constant urge to pull my own phone out and capture an Instagram opporunity or put together a killer Snapchat story. I wanted people to know how incredible this was. I wanted them to feel that feeling.
Okay, let me stop there. This isn't a lecture or rant about cell phone use. I'm not in any position for such a thing, as I'm on my phone pretty much all the time. The idea is redundant and I'm not trying to be Jennifer Lawrence at the Golden Globes. She can live in the now all she wants.
Anyway, this experience got me thinking a little differently about social media and what it all really means. I just recently joined Twitter and Instagram last summer, finally giving in to advice from fellow writers. They said it was important to build a platform that can help in the path to publishing and promotion. Sign me up. I had my reservations at first, but quickly became fascinated with the whole concept. There's something very unique about the validation you get on social media. On paper, a bunch of strangers liking your dog pictures and shaky concert videos doesn't sound all that special. However, I started to absolutely strive for just that. I was always seeking out a reason to post something new and worthy of attention, stopping to take a picture at every turn. I was hooked.
But is there a point?
There's no arguing that social media has great value. It is a kind of power the world had never seen before and it can be incredibly effective. There's nothing wrong with platforms that allow you to share thoughts and art and promote worldwide connections intricately woven in ways that weren't possible when we were born.
On the other hand, it can be a sort of burden. Numbers become more important than they should be. Followers. Likes. Retweets. Favorites. These numbers matter to us. For me, if I don't get a certain number of likes on Instagram, does that mean my picture isn't good enough? Was I foolish for even taking it in the first place? There's a pressure that comes with sharing your life with the world, and that pressure walks hand in hand with a tremendous need to be validated by it. The people at the concert felt it, as did I. It's as if our life experiences don't mean anything unless we post it online with the perfect filter.
I used to put way too much thought into crafting these posts, mortified by the very thought of looking foolish on social media. Who wants to be the person with no followers? No likes? My posts were catered to please those strangers out there instead of being created simply because I wanted them to be. Do I need to be funnier? Is this tweet too serious? Did I spell that right?
And then, dancing like a crazy person while Fall Out Boy played to the beat of my heart, I figured it out.
Who cares?
No one. Literally no one.
Unless you're some sort of famous or have a viral moment, this is actually a pretty liberating truth. It's a lot of work to try to create a pleasing social media presence, and there's really no end game if you're not doing it for yourself. If you want to tweet about nothing but Teen Wolf and Pete Wentz's perfect face, more power to you. The real point of it all is to be genuine, to go forth feeling comfortable with the life you lead online while not letting it get in the way of the one you live in the buzz of the 'real world'. In doing so, this can lead to much more meaningful connections with people who feel the same way about your thoughts or ideas. If it's not real, the numbers don't matter. Follower counts don't matter. Quality over quantity, my friends. It's a thing. In the end, followers aren't the ones that hold your head above the water. It's people. Real people who you've formed real relationships with, online or off.
I know that even as I write all this, I'll still get excited about the likes and the follows. People need validation. It's just a part of who we are and social media has expanded the ways in which that can be accomplished. However, it holds so much more weight when it comes from who you really are. Rant about that latest episode all day long. Tweet your favorite lyrics. Profess your love for a band member over and over and over. Be funny as hell or dead serious. The only person that needs to care is you. Now and always, the truth is simple:
You are what you love, not who loves you.
