Re: My issue with online interactions
There’s something entirely unnatural about creating a fixed identity online. Platforms like Instagram box us into an aesthetic—evolving with every post but often curated to harmonise with everything that’s come before it. Sometimes that aesthetic fits, but rarely for very long, and never enough to match the true fluctuations of one’s identity. At least in my experience.
I recently read Ava’s blog on “my issues with online interactions”, and the notion of code-switching made a characteristic I have often shunned in myself suddenly feel more normal than ever. In her words, code-switching is choosing “how to talk based on the space we are in and the people we are with”, and it’s what I’ve often referred to as chameleoning for as long as I’ve had an interest in my own psychology.
For a long time, I thought chameleoning was a bad habit—a way of trying to win people over or boost my social clout in certain circles. But in reality, it’s an essential and inseparable trait of good socialisation skills—and one there’s no room for on social media.
Despite what the captions of influencers might tout, social media habituates the squashing of one’s identity into a 1080 x 1080 pixel square, with captions curated to increase engagement. That’s not to mention the inauthentic nature of presenting one’s life as a highlight reel. And while I think there’s a place for social media, I don’t think attempting to use it as a space that fosters authentic connections or community is helping anyone.
The reality is that it gaslights people into thinking they’re doing it wrong because it doesn’t feel like community to any one of us. Not in the way community is meant to feel, anyway.
I’m still trying to figure out if the benefits of social media outweigh its pitfalls. After a two-year break, I rejoined Instagram about eight months ago, and it’s obvious that the app distracts me from some of the less dopamine-filled moments of my life. It means I’m less mindful in the quieter moments because my brain flips the ‘check insta for a lil dopamine hit’ switch, and I miss out on what’s actually going on around (and often inside of) me.
What does that do to my headspace, my attention, my identity, and my relationships? I’m not yet sure, but I guess it’s time to start reflecting.