Lemmings on Parade: The High Cost of Personal Branding
The highly curated life comes with a hefty price tag
I’m so glad I didn’t grow up in the age of social media.
My childhood memories are a mishmash of people, colors, and feelings. I like that it’s a little fuzzy in places. The blur of growing up still holds significant weight in the formation of my identity. It’s an internal narrative — forged by my sensations and not by a polished scrapbook.
Sometimes I imagine what it would have been like to grow up surrounded by smartphones. While my parents snapped photos of birthdays and significant milestones, I don’t have a backlog of every trip to the park or family dinner. Most of my childhood pictures would never make the mark of today’s highly curated feeds.
And I’m glad. Not just because I was a loud, slightly weird, and utterly unfashionable 80’s kid. But because I hate thinking what might have been lost in the name of capturing every moment.
Would I still view myself as a wild-haired, scraped knees, mismatched ball of energy? Or would my perceptions have been altered — toned down — based on the narrative my parents might have wanted to show others?
And at what age would I have taken over the responsibility of that narrative? When would I have…
