Social Media Has Given Me a Lifeline as a Parent, But It Can Also Bring Me Down
Here’s how I find a balance.
I’ll never forget the first taste I got of Facebook. I was in college and a friend shared with me a new website where we could connect with people we knew, upload a photo, and fill out the mundane details of our existence, questionnaire style. At the time, it seemed a little silly.
By the time I got married in my twenties, social media was fully woven into the thread of daily life. I remember joking with my then-fiancé that the engagement wouldn’t be official until it was “Facebook Official.” The morning after we got married, I popped downstairs to the main office at our hotel to change my last name on social media before it had even been done in real life. This still does seem silly, but the fact is, social media mattered. And now that I’m a mom, it feels like it matters even more than ever.
When we were expecting our first child, it was the chat section of my favorite pregnancy app where I turned to ask all of the questions I didn’t feel necessitated a call to the doctor. Blog posts and Instagram, articles shared on Facebook, and the Twitter feeds of my favorite female celebrities, breastfeeding advocates, and parenting scholars became my new hub.
A few friends had suggested books on birthing and breastfeeding to me, on room-sharing and vaccines. But most of them were just too long, too dense, and too repetitive for my taste. I wanted the latest information, and I wanted it now. I also preferred my advice to be delivered with a sense of humor or at least the spirit of camaraderie.
Connecting with other moms via social media made everything seem more manageable. Going through my second pregnancy was easier than my first not only because I had time and experience on my side, but also because I was in “birth month” groups on Facebook. Every day there was a fresh crop of discussions, information sharing, and support from thousands of women all over the world who were going through the exact same things I was, and we all had each other to lean on.
Pinterest helped me design a nursery on a budget and pack the perfect hospital bag.
On Facebook, I learned about “gentle C-sections,” an option I enjoyed with my second birth since my first had turned into a traumatic emergency C-section.
Facebook was where I helped strangers cope with anxiety about in-laws and nipple shields.
On Instagram, I received roaring support that kept me persevere through my new-mom stress when the world around me felt dark, bleak, and void of anyone who “got it.” It was there that I made connections with women all over the country — even the world — who became vital to my joy and growth as a mom.
The world of parenting into which I was gently tiptoeing didn’t feel quite as scary with the safety net of social media below my feet. I often thought about the moms before me who didn’t have all of this support, information, and inspiration. It must have been tough. It must have been lonely.
But also…
It must have been nice. Because in these past 10-plus years as parenthood and social media have become increasingly inseparable, it has done about as much to tear us down as it has to build us up. I’m can’t deny how helpful social media has been to me, especially as a new mother, but I also have to admit that it’s made some aspects of motherhood much harder.
Because for all the information, inspiration, and connection, there is a darker side to social media that can make parenting feel like a competitive sport, a battle we can never win.
Pinterest tells us our homes are not stylish or organized enough. It can make us think we’re sub-par parents if we’re not building sensory stations and baking organic cereal bars from scratch.
Facebook brings us together into groups based upon similar parenting styles or other interests, then rips us apart with arguments. It’s become a hub where anyone can share articles blindly without fact-checking them, spew opinions that are intended to hurt. When you’re a new parent, and you already feel like you’re failing, this is pretty much the last thing you need.
And speaking of the last thing you need, we have to talk about the envy-inducing long blond ponytails, perfect makeup, seemingly baby-weight-free waistlines, and otherwise flawless-looking moms of Instagram. Don’t get me wrong: I’m a “lifestyle blogger” and “influencer” too. I am probably contributing to this phenomenon that hurts us all, if inadvertently. That doesn’t mean that this picture-perfect portrayal of motherhood is good for us.
We mostly show the best parts of our mothering on social media. But when you are standing in your kitchen crying into your cold cup of coffee, and you pick up your phone for some connection to the outside world, that is not what you want to see. When you can’t remember the last time you washed your hair and the baby was up crying half of the night, a stranger’s fantastic-looking life, complete with smiling babies bouncing on their hips and spotless, meticulously styled living rooms can be enough to set you over the edge.
So can being bullied on Facebook for your choices as a parent. So can turning to Pinterest for a list of safe first foods for babies and being inundated by images of all the things we are supposed to be doing, feeling, and making when we can’t even figure out how to get all the other stuff done.
Here’s the thing: Social media has made my life as a mom easier in so many ways and I definitely wouldn’t want to give it up. But I do think its pull and the tendencies it brings out and enables in all of us can be harmful. When it comes to digital age parenting, I think we could all do for a break from time to time, as well as a double dose of reality — the unplugged version.
This is why I’ve started setting rules and limits for myself to keep the social media use helpful instead of harmful.
I avoid my phone when I’m hanging out with the kids. It drives my friends absolutely nuts because they often have to wait hours for a response for me. But if the phone is in my hand, I am bound to aimlessly scroll and stress, so I pretty much shield myself from the whole device in three-to-four-hour time blocks each day.
Another thing that’s helped me cope with the hard stuff on social media is my “Do Not Engage” rule. If a fight ignites in one of my parenting groups, I just keep scrolling. If someone attacks me on my own page, I delete their comment rather than replying. I used to go down the rabbit hole and feel depressed or anxious about these comment wars. Now I choose not to engage in this negativity, and I feel so much lighter.
The same goes for Pinterest perfection and Instagram #goals. When I’m in the mood to be inspired, I peek, scroll, like, and save. When I’m not, I don’t open the apps. If I’ve had a rough day where I barely managed to scrape together a dinner of mac ‘n cheese and microwaved broccoli, I know it’s not the night spend an hour on Pinterest looking at DIY treasure hunt ideas. But if I’m in a good head space, I will send you all the hearts on that new nursing top that looks amazing on your mind-blowingly flat tummy.
Social media, just like everything else in life, needs dosing and context. With limits and perspective, it can be an amazing tool in connecting mothers around the globe and reminding us of all the positive parts of this crazy journey. But if you don’t get a like from me in a few days, just know this: It doesn’t mean I don’t like hanging out with you in the virtual world; I’m just taking the break I need to focus on the real one.
