On {not} being a Facebook addict, privacy, and pleasing people

Three years ago, I came out publicly to my friends and family as being a self-proclaimed Facebook addict, whose true deeper problem was that of being addicted to pleasing people.

That, really, was my first really vulnerable post – and one of the first times I was really honest with myself. Little did I know that once you start getting to the heart of who you are, flaws and all, it’s like peeling an onion. There’s lots of layers. Since then, I’ve found a lot of other stuff I don’t like. Character flaws like perfectionism and the desire to control everything, and big stuff like legalism that skewed my view of both God and myself.

All this junk manifested itself in a lot of very obvious ways: like being threatened by the choices of others, participating in “mommy wars” and doing a lot of self-justification, and doing the thing that started it all – posting incessantly on Facebook.

There’s this lovely little app called Timehop, which allows any user to view their entire social media history. When I check Timehop each day, I see everything I posted on this day in history across all of social media.

This is where I start shaking my head at my former self.

I lie there in bed every morning (as it’s part of my waking-up routine), and find myself thinking, And you are posting this because? Come on. Shut up already. Aprille, seriously. Nobody cares* about this stuff. 

{*And not like “oh poor me, nobody cares” but rather “this stuff is so unimportant and trivial why did YOU even care to post about it?”}

It’s mildly humorous at best, but more annoying than anything. I realized this morning that this annoyance is actually a sign of maturity and that, while I’m far from perfect and won’t claim to have “arrived,” I think I can confidently say that I’m no longer a people-pleasing Facebook addict.

I’m not always living life outloud, hoping that she or she or she is watching and noticing and liking and caring and commenting. Because I don’t need that anymore.

I’ve finally realized you can live your life trying to please everyone and make everyone happy (which will result in failing or hurting someone because it truly is impossible and you can never truly be good enough), or you can live your own life and enjoy it for what it is – mess, imperfections, and all – regardless of what they think of you.

I’ve chosen the latter.

As far as privacy, the older I get the more important this gets to me. The last few months, I’ve grown a little bit more reclusive and anti-social (although not exactly intentionally, it’s more just sort of happened). This has bled over into my online life, with less blog posts and social media posts in general. I’m not sure, completely, if it’s just a phase induced by pregnancy or a new path.

All I know is that yes, there’s stuff going on. God-stuff is interesting and full of ups and downs. There’s family stuff. And I’m going through a lot of stuff emotionally – most of it good growth and change.

But no, I don’t really feel like talking about it.

I was sitting there rocking Ezra tonight thinking that I should write such-and-such a kind of post and oh, there’s that pesky one-word for 2015 that I haven’t updated you all on and that Redemption Stories Series that I haven’t done squat with.

But I’m listening less and less to the shoulds. Because this is my space and I don’t owe you anything. Really. My life is my life, and I don’t have to live it publicly.

I feel emotionally more calm and secure, more settled. Content. Really just okay.

It feels really good to be in this place. That’s all.