Do you remember when T-9 and Snake were the coolest things about our cell phones? Do you remember when we used to call our cell phones cell phones? Those days seem like a million years ago. With our newfangled smart phones we have the ability to be connected to the world 24 hours a day. That is a great responsibility and with great responsibility comes a great chance to mess everything up and we are doing just that. We are #selfiesabotaging ourselves. Perhaps the greatest casualties of our obsessive connectivity are our relationships. The blame however, lies with us, not our phones.
My grandparents met at a coffee shop in Santiago, Chile in 1951 when my grandpa kept replaying My Foolish Heart by Astrud Gilberto until my grandma agreed to dance with him. Seven replays, 61 years, four children and nine grandchildren later they are still dancing. That is the kind of love we all want but we are settling for things like Tinder. Imagine this:
Future child: Mom, how did you meet Dad?
You: Well honey, we used this app and I was his closest match. No, not based on our likes or personalities, we just happened to be the least amount of steps from each other.
Do you want to have that conversation? Please say no. Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat and plenty of other apps are changing us and it’s not a positive change. We all need to take a step back and look at how our posting habits are making us look to the opposite sex.
You Post Way Too Much
You know that person on your news feed that bugs the absolute crap out of you? No names coming to mind? Then you are that person! These days, few things are a bigger turn-off than a compulsive poster. I would rather be around a compulsive liar, at least that requires creativity and dedication.
Here is a very short list of things you should stop posting about immediately: eating food, driving, going to work or school, working out, wearing sunglasses. None of those are interesting. They are just things that humans do every day! Is that how you want to present yourself? Karen: the most mundane woman on Earth.
#selfiewednesday Is Not a Real Holiday
Valentine’s Day might be a made-up holiday too but at least it is socially acceptable to consume embarrassing amounts of candy and wine. These #selfie days bring no such joy. E! Online recently published an article about how to take the best selfie. They give you some tips on makeup, angles and lighting but leave out one important piece of advice: selfies don’t suck because you look ugly, they suck because you post them WAY too much.
Also, think about location. Your caption might say, “Girl’s Night! Time to get cray cray!” but all he sees is a self-obsessed, desperate girl alone in a public bathroom. Bathrooms are for cleaning and relieving yourself, not for photographs, ever. Plus you are just one forgotten flush away from selfie fail infamy.
Party Photos
The time has come to stop posting about your “boyfriends” Jose Cuervo, Jack Daniels and Jim Bean. That joke was mildly amusing six years ago when we first saw it on a bumper sticker on Facebook but those days have long since passed. No male is going to see a photo of you hugging a toilet and flashing your lady parts and say, “That is the girl I’m going to marry.” Try practicing some restraint. Besides, it’s hard to meet someone when you’re not coherent enough to form sentences.
While we’re on the subject, do you think any prospective employer is going to be able to ignore how irresponsible you look? You may as well tag that photo #waitressforlife or #minimumwage because if you can’t take yourself seriously, no one else will.
That is our biggest problem with social media. Women continually choose to broadcast their insecurities instead of their achievements. They think a half-naked picture will bring them validation from men when really it just makes it easier for them to disregard you as a serious person. We have to stop choosing more “Likes” over being respected. Be your own editor. Take pride in yourself and then post things that make you look more like an educated woman of the world and less like a runaway stripper, and for the love of God, no more duck-faces.
