I can recall my social media ‘firsts’ as easily as I could my major life events: first cryptically spelled Facebook status, first grotesquely filtered Instagram, first angsty song lyric quoted on Twitter. It becomes almost nostalgic, recalling a time when social media was new and each post brought me one step closer to perfecting my skillfully crafted online persona. Yet my most profound ‘first’ was when I gave it all up.
Let me start off with a disclaimer that this was not self-inflicted or resulted from a stereotypical disillusionment with technology. As any other narcissistic twenty-something, I love social media. However, one of the main requirements to serve as a Panhellenic Counselor — or "Pi Chi" — is to forgo social media in an attempt to cut ties with your sorority and serve as an unbiased counselor.
So, for the entire summer of 2015 I (somehow) managed to exist without Facebook, Instagram and Twitter while simultaneously learning to embrace my cosmic insignificance. Here’s what I learned and why you should try it.
1. You learn that the world goes on without you: This was perhaps the hardest lesson for me to swallow. Whether it was a major news story or a distant friend getting engaged, I often didn’t find out about it until weeks after. Countless times I listened to stories with a puzzled look plastered across my face that typically resulted in the response, "Oh yeah right! I totally forgot you don’t have Facebook!" Coming to terms with my insignificance was an equally humbling and terrifying task.
2. You’re forced to rely on face-to-face first impressions: We’ve all done it, meeting someone for the first time in a casual setting only to cyber-stalk them so thoroughly you know their blood type, social security number and what they ate for breakfast. In an age where the motto "information is power" reigns supreme, having to rely solely on brief interactions to form an opinion on someone left me feeling equally lazy and powerless. Yet I was surprised by how much more intriguing people seemed when I knew so little about them.
3. You become either mysterious or nonexistent: Similarly, I hoped that the mystery surrounding everyone I met over the summer would do the same for me. At a time when several of my friends were gallivanting around Europe or padding their resumes with impressive internships, I was in good ol’ Gainesville. I was taking classes and working, mind you, but my plans for the summer seemed to pale in comparison. Yet, my lack of Internet presence seemed to work in my favor. Was Marisa in Paris? London? New York? No one outside my friend group truly knew (or probably cared) but it was exciting nonetheless.
4. You realize good friends don’t need notifications to remember you: In late June I turned 20, and instead of a barrage of Facebook posts or Instagram collages, I received around 15 texts or calls. I didn’t miss the generic birthday wishes from people I hadn’t spoken to in years, and I knew that the friends who reached out were keepers. I spent the day eating pizza by the pool with my brother and two best friends, blissfully unburdened by my own irrelevance.
5. You lose the urge to "over share": I reallocated time once spent staring at my phone toward learning how to bake cookies from scratch, figuring out Adobe Illustrator and writing more. Without a constant stream of pointless information interfering, I became much more content with my own achievements and learned how to be present in my daily life. I wasn’t constantly thinking about how to take a perfect picture or word a clever tweet. My own experience was the only validation I needed.
It’s now day 129 of my social media cleanse with only two more days to go until I’m technically allowed to reactivate my accounts. Both social media and my love-hate relationship with it aren’t going anywhere, but at least I now know that a little time "off the grid" can have a lasting impact.
Marisa Papenfuss is a UF English junior. Her column appears on Wednesdays.
