When social media is just enough and too much all at once
Oftentimes we discuss how social media has gone craycray and that we’re becoming too dependant on it, that we’ve become disenchanted with reality because of it. And yes, it’s true. Social media platforms help to carefully plan and paint a glossy square-shaped picture of what our Best Of moments are. My life isn’t half as glam as my Instagram tries to make out it is. Did you know that I ate super unsightly bananas dipped in Nutella for breakfast? No 😉 FYI I think it’s a golden rule not to Instagram a banana unless you’re a bona fide Minion.
Something I realised when I moved here, 6000+ miles away from home, is that social media can do the world of good in helping you feel at home. Look. I can tap the Facebook icon and see which of my friends are checking in for a cheeky Nando’s, who else has got the keys to their first place or 10 idiotic musings about someone’s bus journey. I can leave sweet messages for friends and family via WhatsApp. Twitter means I instantly have all of you ladies and gents as instant friends to chat to.
But it’s a disconnected sort of reality. They’re there and they’re not. It’s actually really lonely to rely so heavily upon social media. I often find myself scrolling through Facebook and wishing for just a hot second that I could also be there. That I could be sat at home in my lounge watching Made in Chelsea and Tweeting along in real time. I struggle a lot, even now, with the time difference. My Canadian friend mentioned how her 12-hour time difference is ideal and, in hindsight, I wish all the time I could have that.
The odd disconnect that comes from time zones is something that you don’t consider at all when you consider moving, right? YOU want a beach, warmer climes and fun. That’s what I wanted anyway! I can’t quote describe how it feels other than I literally can never grasp a hold of the concept of time. Conversation suddenly stretches from those intense hour-long chats with your best friend to watered-down intensity spanning over a few days. As I wake up, they’re headed to bed. When they’re finishing work, I’m nodding off. That’s difficult.
It’s July but in my mind it’s October. When I moved. Time passes so quickly whether you’re here or there. It’s hard for me to be passing so many days – however much I adore it here – while at-home people pass theirs separately from me. I need to like, learn to Apparate or Splinch myself or something. The strangest thing is trying to eloquently describe how I feel to be living my life here while most of my loved ones are elsewhere. I can see myself bashing down the barriers and reaching so many (excuse the word) goals, but similarly I can’t help but feel seven hours of disconnect with everybody else’s.
The disconnect has oddly helped me realise that nearly all of the friends I made plans with in my final month are the best. Almost all of them are the ones that continue to check in on me and I, them, despite the time lapse. “The ones that are meant to be in your life will always gravitate back to you.” That’s how the saying goes, right? I’m so lucky that my pals, and you bunch, are the best.
(Striped cold-shoulder dress, Korean boutique;
Topshop Fairy lace-up leather sandals;