For My Eyes Only
I’ve written a lot on here about the impact social media has had on society. From Instagramming meals to status updates within hours of a baby being born, sharing intimate moments in our lives to (sometimes) millions of people is just what people do nowadays. In fact, the more personal the better, it seems. The weirdest part is that we accept it and encourage it. I’ve actually seen someone get mildly upset that they missed Selfie Sunday.
My diary from when I was 12, written entirely in gel pen.
In a rare moment sans computer, I came across an interesting documentary on Netflix called Mortified. It follows the producers and participants of a pseudo comedy show as they read excerpts from their childhood diaries on stage in front of audiences across the country. Yep. You heard me right. Their childhood diaries. Read in front of strangers.
The most intriguing thing is, for most, no one on Earth had ever heard the secrets they chose to spill under the spotlight. Not one single human being except themselves had access to these thoughts, dreams, and most embarrassing personal experiences. When you’re young, venting about acceptance, fear, judgment, and trust is just a part of growing up—but these are the things we can all relate to at any age.
For more than half my life now, I’ve reveled in the Internet Age. Because of this, I’m no stranger to sharing who I am through a screen, but I am also one of very few 20-somethings today who remember a time when going online wasn’t even a thing. Let’s go back ten years to 2004. I was in my freshmen year of high school and by the time I was 15, I had already filled two or three entire journals with scarily detailed bits about what I thought my first kiss would be like, school girl drama, songs I’d written, and of course, all my ever-fleeting pre-teen crushes on unobtainable boys. The mere thought of reading any of that aloud makes me want to, like, totally die, like, OMG!
I’m sure many of you can agree putting yourself on blast like that isn’t a thing you’d do willingly, but watching Mortified inspired me to revisit my younger self. I actually still have most of my journals and entertained myself the other night reading through one I wrote between the ages of 12 and 14. It’s weird to think those now blatantly idiotic ramblings were written with the same hands I have today. Although I’ve grown away from obsessively scribbling my crush’s name, it’s who I was and cringeworthy as it is, influenced who I am today.
Those diary entries are the most honest version of ourselves because, back then, we had complete confidence that no one would ever read them. In that moment, they meant everything. So, why is it that social media has made Gen Y comfortable sharing? If you think about it, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, etc. are all just one big digital diary but without the comfort of a lock and key. Maybe in a weird way, growing up alongside instant messaging, MySpace, and LiveJournal helped us find the confidence we needed to be unafraid of scrutiny. Or maybe we’re still just trying to fit in.