A few weeks ago I was at a restaurant in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the annoyingly pretentious kind which’s given an ironic Hebrew name because its menu mainly consists of pork along with shellfish dishes.
Usually I Instagram Story my experience — after all, how can one enjoy their meal unless everyone else they know can see what they are eating? — however on This kind of occasion I put away my phone. the item wasn’t because I was enjoying the company of close friends as we shared multiple little plates portioned for a toddler. Nor was the item because I wanted to disconnect through technology.
the item was because another friend had invited me to hang out, however I told her I didn’t feel like going out which night. If she saw my posts on social, the item would likely start a petty fight which I, as a woman in my 30s, don’t possess the time or patience to deal with.
This kind of isn’t FOMO, or fear of missing out. If anything This kind of is usually more like ROMO — rage originated by missing out.
Instagram, Snapchat along with additional platforms are supposed to connect people, or as Facebook CEO Mark Zuckerberg constantly reminds us, “bring the planet closer together.” however as in-the-moment posts become more favorite, they create digital receipts of our white lies thanks to a neurotic obsession of capturing minutiae of our on-goings. At the same time, the item’s also turning us into paranoid voyeurs who jealously look through every post to see if we’ve been excluded through the fun for some reason we’ve concocted in our heads.
While you’re probably not shedding a tear over the unshared photos of my kung pao sweetbread dinner, the societal requirement to post the highlights our lives has devolved us into a constant state of middle-school drama.
A recent example: A friend along with her boyfriend had to choose between two weddings to attend on the same weekend where the couples did not have mutual friends. After they decided on attending her friend’s nuptials, the boyfriend asked her not to post anything on social media —despite the fact she had never met the additional couple. He spent the rest of the night avoiding being in anyone’s posts.
“I also wasn’t invited to his friend’s wedding — no plus one — so f— them,” my friend explained.
Another colleague had the urge to hang out with an acquaintance so she texted her. She didn’t receive a response, however later saw woman’s post on Instagram Stories of her with mutual friends at her apartment. the item was a social event my colleague feels could have easily been invited to, along with currently she’s wondering why she was left out.
“the item was three of my friends with her dog watching TV,” she recounted. “which’s literally the captions, ‘Lazy night in.'”
Before you blame This kind of on millennials or Gen Z, This kind of is usually not a youth problem. I’ve got family members angrily commenting on posts asking why they weren’t invited to certain events. My own mother has told me not to post photos of us together, lest others will know we were hanging out. (Sorry Mom.)
This kind of argument which social media is usually This kind of force to help foster friendships couldn’t be further through the truth. the item’s tearing us apart. currently, excuse me while I hide This kind of post through all my social media accounts before my friends along with family find out I’m talking about them.