Auntie SparkNotes: I Regret Never Posting on Social Media

Hi Auntie!

I’ve never cared about social media. I made a Facebook and Snapchat to talk to my friends, but I never posted any of my own stuff. It honestly didn’t matter to me.

I thought I would be able to live the rest of my life in blissful apathy, but when my senior year of high school came around, I noticed that the only evidence that I ever existed on the internet are a few (highly unflattering) pictures.

I’ve never felt so shallow and petty in my life, but I don’t want people to see those ugly pictures and remember that as me after graduation. All of a sudden, I’m wishing that I had posted my own things throughout the years. Somehow it really feels like despite all the accomplishments I’ve done in my life, none of them ever mattered because I didn’t document them on Facebook or something. I know that this is probably the stupidest problem that has ever been emailed to you, but it’s been making me feel something awful for some weeks now. How do I get over myself??

Ooooh, I know! First up, you should find the nearest human being over the age of, oh, say, 28—one of that generation who graduated from high school before the age of Snapchat or Facebook (or in the case of ancient hags such as Auntie SparkNotes, pre-social media of any kind.) And second, you should a) show that person your letter, and b) ask them how much regret they feel about not having a permanent record of their every teenaged movement on the internet.

Pro tip: You may need to wait fifteen minutes or so for whomever you ask to stop laughing before you get an intelligible answer.

Because speaking as a member of that pre-internet-as-we-know-it population, I’ve gotta tell you: there are really excellent benefits to having a minimal (or nonexistent) internet footprint during your pre-adult years. No, you won’t have a digital timeline of your every doing throughout high school—but let’s be honest, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. If you look at the average teenager’s social media presence, most of what’s on there isn’t exactly gold. (And if we’re being really honest, a good percentage of it comprises things that would be better off stuffed down the memory hole never to see the light of day and/or Facebook timehop again.) This is why your parents and teachers and guidance counselors are always blathering on about being careful about what you share/post/text: As long as we live in a world where one ill-advised digital footprint can do serious (if not permanent) damage to a person’s reputation, there’s something to be said for not having a record of every petty drama, every party foul, and every snap or status update that might have seemed funny at the time, but which is profoundly cringeworthy as far as your grownup self is concerned.

In short, there’s a pretty significant upside to the fact that you’ve been so conservative with your online presence thus far. But more importantly, that downside you imagine—the one where you will essentially cease to exist for your friends after graduation, except in the form of a few unflattering pictures on Facebook? That’s not actually going to happen, darling. It’s just not. People use apps for a lot of things, but they don’t need one to keep in mind how fun and wonderful and accomplished and amazing their friends are; that’s what human memory is for, and it does a kick-ass job of it. (And it’s a good thing, too, considering that it was all we had to rely on during those thousands of years of human history before photography, let alone the internet, was invented.) You will live on in your friends’ memories with or without a robust social media presence—and the photos of you that are preserved on Facebook, unflattering or not, will never be anything but a two-dimensional image that prompts people to think of you in all your three-dimensional IRL glory.

All of which hopefully makes you feel better about your minimal online footprint thus far. (Note: If not, then you can always take a few minutes to read some of the ubiquitous horror stories about teenagers being doxxed, persecuted, and/or kicked out of school for their youthfully indiscreet social media postings. Aren’t you glad that will never be you?!) But with that said, there’s one more thing: If you want to flesh out your Facebook profile with a few nice-looking photos, or to use it or another app as a platform when you have some exciting news to share, there’s no reason why you can’t start doing it now. Give it a try. Go hogwild. If people my parents’ age can join Facebook in their 60s and start blowing up my feed with Donald Trump memes, it’s certainly not too late for you to create a lovely, tasteful internet presence starting at the age of 18. Have fun.

Got something to say? Tell us in the comments! And to get advice from Auntie, email her at advice@sparknotes.com.
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