I’ve always known that I’m old school – I preferred forum boards and instant messaging forums to popular social media. But I had to get with the times. My first foray into this pool was months after I had cleared high school and was taking a foreign language course as I waited to join university. It seemed as if everyone in my class had joined the Facebook bandwagon, everyone of course, except me. I was coming off of 4 years in a girls boarding school, where the closest thing I had to internet was the computer lab – I hated it, I couldn’t understand it all – why it is I had to learn how to type, and to use Microsoft word – and come my 3rd year, was all too happy to drop it for chemistry and physics, my loves. I vividly recall my first post – I was fine, because I had variations of the same line in my subsequent posts, I was just fine, and I was still fine, in case anyone was wondering. Turns out they did – my regulars, the most random of friends, and friends of friends, who’d added me as soon as I came on. I was bewildered. I had never been popular, and I couldn’t understand why strangers wanted to befriend me. I had tons of likes I recall and many encouraging comments – yes we know you’re fine, haha, give us something else, but awesome that you’re trying babe. It wasn’t lost upon me that there was a different kind of update expected of me as a consumer – my timeline was full of scrolls of glossy photos, of people, and places they’d visited.

And once I joined university, twitter was the it thing. And I was it, I thought. I had manic confidence in those days. You couldn’t tell me anything then – my role model was Orie Rogo Manduli, an outspoken feminist and outrageous fashionista I’d met in a popular conference centre. She didn’t give a fig if the world stared at her, she would live her life as she wanted to and that was that. From then on, I would walk about town and use her as a reference if anyone had a problem with me.

And then Instagram came along, and snap chat. I opened accounts to see what the hullabaloo was about but quickly realized it was more of the same thing, and promptly moved on with my life. Until I went through some tough times and social media became my escape. It was a constant barrage I felt. With people living incredible lives that I would never be a part of, I thought. And advancing to positions that I could only ever dream of. I was never going to live like them, and if I did, no one would ever find out. And off went Facebook, and Instagram and snap chat, and twitter for a while. But I missed the wit and the news, and would go back to it, time and again.  And LinkedIn for my career. I had an official photo and had the most random people follow me whom I had to block. I was disappointed in myself, that I had conformed to fit in to what was expected of me. And I couldn’t stand the thought that someone had chosen to add or follow me because of the way that I looked. That that is all I had to offer. My photos had to go.

There is a thin line, in my books, between authentication, marketing and objectification when you’re a woman running a business with a predominantly male clientele. It needs fine tuning, with steel. I know for sure that I never want to compete with anyone, the thrust of constant photos on social media a testament to the fact that there was some kind of unspoken competition going on. Who would have the most money, the flashiest of cars, the coolest of clothes, the sultriest of eyes. I am me, and it’s taken me a long time to accept myself. But I have come to terms with it – this is how I was created. And this is my destiny. I may not be your cup of tea but I’m uniquely, distinctly beautiful because this is what my Lord intended me to be – to only have one of me.

Twitter was a never ending field of updates –  it seemed to be my drug. I had a core group of people and accounts that I admired, and quickly dropped anyone whose posts I felt had nothing to do with my life. But as life invariably is, it still wasn’t perfect. I would follow up and update. Constantly refresh, I always felt that there was something that I’d missed. Something crucial may have passed me. That even in this insipid business, I needed to do my very best. I had to be the most updated person in the world. But you can’t be, you know? You can’t compete on never-ending depressing news, on shallowness, on vanity. What would be the award? The most depressed person, the most apprised, the most vapid? What is earth changing about that? How would I have advanced society?

Twitter had to go. But I would go back and forth between deleting and re-activating it. Arghh, I detest wishy washy behavior. I’ve taken a break and it’s been some of the most peaceful and inspiring times I’ve had. The discontent that engulfed me then is simply not worth the witty gems that I’d see here and there. Still, I miss the news.

Quora and Reddit became my go to sites. Oracular questions would be asked, cultured answers given, intellectual debates had. I have learnt so much, and encountered kindness upon kindness, interacting with my anonymous babies. There wouldn’t be all these hashtags, filters, stories and accompanying parochial and narcissistic garbage that I couldn’t stand anymore, especially not from myself. Until I came across some fruitcakes, who had nothing better to do but spew hatred. And would down vote every conflicting opinion they encountered. The fact that I had to be anonymous left a bad taste in my mouth. There is an element of dishonesty, I thought, in hiding who I am to post my views and interact with strangers, however familiar, on the internet. The irony!

And so LinkedIn was the last to hold fort. I had made friends who were in my career circle, people I had admired. I couldn’t go wrong here, I thought. I’d come across some amazing opportunities, and I’d managed to keep up with what my old classmates and lecturers were up to. And I’m better for it. But there is a fine line between informing, educating, and boasting, the latter which invariably started with “I’m proud of what I…” These days, it’s called affirming yourself. But why can’t one do it privately? I wondered. Isn’t that the best kind? And who doesn’t know that they’re not ever entirely responsible for their favour in fortune? A lot, I found.

And isn’t its premise the same as all the others? Bragging about who I am, what I am, and what I do? I truly would be proud of my friends’ achievements, and publicly expressed my excitement to see these milestones. So why weren’t I proud of my own? Why wouldn’t I want to advertise my business? Don’t I have to show what I’m up to, to do so? Where is the line? These are extremely difficult questions to ask of myself. But I must. Because I’m answerable to The Most High and would never want to face His wrath by seeking the favour of others, when the ultimate favour, honour and prestige lies with Him, and Him only.

There is no line. For me, social media is a facade that I can no longer keep up with, an expensive distraction. It is enough for me to know that I have ticked a goal, my satisfaction lies inwards. And I would venture to say that posting any update is a dangerous game for me, and anyone really who derives satisfaction in improving whatever is before them. There is always a feeling that it could be better. It’s debilitating.

No doubt, there is a certain thrill that we all get from posting a photo, or an insightful message. Having like after like, people commenting on how much they’ve missed you, affirming that you’re admired. I have discovered though that this is all too fleeting, a cesspool of shallowness and fickle support. A waning one, until you follow it up with another, and another, and another. It could easily become an addiction. Easily. Only you can affirm yourself. Only you know deep down how you feel about yourself, and if you got a thousand likes, or a thousand people who said they admired you, you’d still not fill the hole of inadequacy that you have, if you can’t stand yourself.

If I could scrub myself off of the internet, I would. To have to conform to what is required of me, to sell myself to the unsatisfied audience this world constitutes is depressing beyond belief. Why do I have to tell people what my ideas are, with a poster that reminds them of just what I look like? Why should that be the norm?

Of course there’s a lot that I have, and will miss, from social media –  the witty messages that would come my way, the spiritually uplifting ones, the socially just and aware that reminded me I’m not the only one on this journey who thinks as I do. But it’s a constant battle for me. It’s a sacrifice, I feel, in whatever path I choose to take – one that takes a chunk from my soul, and another from my career and business. But come, let’s make peace. It can’t be that complicated?!

I get it. The why of it all. I do. That doesn’t mean that I have to love it. How do I put this? You know the way some people like raspberries more than they do strawberries? And some like oranges, and bananas are simply not their thing? That is social media for me. It simply isn’t my thing, I’ve come to realize, and you know what? I’m okay with that.