I permanently deleted my instagram in early April. I can not reactivate it. The data is gone forever. I did back up all the images for myself and children, but I will not be returning to instagram in that context again. For over a decade I overshared my life on social media leaving me to feel pressure to keep up with everyone. I was worried about follower counts, likes and other things that truly don't matter.
I also cleansed facebook. I was going to delete that too, but I need it for the communities I work with. So instead I deleted almost everyone except for family and the lung cancer community. It wasn't because I was mad at anyone or wanted to hurt people. It's because I am tired of social media and the way it creates a false sense of reality. I did leave my business pages up, and my gaming twitter to keep up with internet friends. But I am truly done with "social" media this time.
I will try to keep up with this blog as much as possible. Writing and blogging is part of the plan I have worked out with my therapist, but I can't help but feel overwhelmed here too. It doesn't feel like it's for me. It feels like it's for other people. No matter how hard I try to be honest, I can't be truly open as I want to be.
I don't understand when we as a society stopped picking up the phone and started to consider liking pictures on facebook or instagram as keeping up a friendship. I am guilty of this myself. I know I am. I am a bad friend too. Since moving from Pennsylvania, I only have one friend's telephone number. It's a sad reality I have sunk myself into. I feel like I need to pull away from it all in order to grow and learn.
I have had the same telephone number for over ten years. If anyone really needs to reach me.
I get a little tired of people who assume that just because you have kids, you are automatically completely uncool, and that all your time is spent wiping babies from head to toe, giving spit baths, criticizing their every move, volunteering for PTA, blogging in your spare time, clipping coupons before crock potting a pot roast, ironing the clothes, bleaching the whites, mopping the floors, harvesting your eggs, sewing for your etsy shop, scrapbooking the little things, taking pictures of everything they do, saving for college, reading Dr. Suess, socializing at the bus stop, sweeping the floor, laughing over coffee with your jogging stroller, wearing your birkenstocks and listening to Baby Einstein.
Just because I DO THESE THINGS OCCASIONALLY.
Does not mean for one second that sometimes I don’t just want to be a kick ass girl with streaks in her hair, a ring in her nose, a tattoo on her arm, concert tickets in her purse, vodka in her fridge, a leather mini-skirt in her closet, her best single friends and a standing reservation for Las Vegas once a year with a don’t ask don’t tell policy, and the desire to just once be seen as more than the mother of 5 kids. Sometimes I just want to be seen as a “Maggie”. A “Maggie” with an extremely adorable set of children… (I joke, but sometimes it's hard to over come labels. )