All Work and No Play Makes Maeve a Dull Girl

It’s never been a crusade. Promise. I know that’s what everyone has always thought, that I’m trying to take down the man, shake the system, cling to yesteryear.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I’ve never liked social media because, well, it just doesn’t feel good to me. To be a voyeur of my own existence, curating the story of what it looks like to live my life instead of actually living my life, feels cheap and fake and phony in a way that makes me want to bathe with industrial strength Brillo pads in a vat of Drano.

We’re in the gilded age of branding, of shameless self-promotion and fleeting Internet stardom. It’s a heartbreakingly hilarious time in which professional opportunities are directly proportionate to Instagram followers, where every intimate moment is a public free-for-all, where co-opting the creations of others catapults you to fame as an artistic visionary.

It makes me want to rub my skin with sandpaper.

It’s never come as a surprise to me that other people think this choice of mine is about other people — after all, that’s the very mindset these platforms breed. But that viewpoint is a product of their own insecurities rather than an observation of my decision-making. It’s easy to give in when the going gets tough, and it happens everyday. That friend who orders the feta salad with grilled chicken but still claims vegan. The bleeding heart who fights the perils of free-market capitalism with a Coca-Cola and Beyoncé album in-hand. Every girl in yoga pants who never quite makes it to the gym.

We can’t all be perfect, and we certainly can’t be perfect all the time, but can’t we at least stand by what we say?

That’s all I’ve ever done, or wanted to do. It’s never been about bucking the trend, it’s just been about being honest with me, despite the peer pressure, the professional pressure, the whole world telling me I’m going to be left behind.

Two roads diverged, and, I tell ya, they really hate when you take the one less traveled by.

Sometimes I wonder how long I can continue this blissfully disconnected lifestyle of mine, how long it will be before I, too, go the way of cassette tapes and home phone numbers. My unplugged existence seems to be what the civilized world is in desperate pursuit of — face-to-face connection, professional boundaries, freedom of privacy — or so that’s what every live your dream-be here now campaign tells me. But that moment comes and tfw you aren’t an Android wrapped in an iPhone encased in nine layers of posts about what a babe your mom used to be.

They say it doesn’t have to be and, well, we’ll see. As of today I’m active on Facebook. I’ll be sharing more of my work, writing, art, and otherwise, trying my best to let it stand for itself.

We all have to progress with the times, yours truly stubborn included, I just don’t want to be forced to lose who I am along the way. I guess you’ll have to check into my Facebook page to find out how I fair (see, I’m good at unsolicited self-promotion already!).