My daughter just turned four this week so I’ve got a while, right? I mean, even though she asked me yesterday, “Mom, am I old enough for a phone now?”
Of course I answered, “No ma’am, you are not!” But still, it got me to thinking, and as I look at her this morning, so beautiful, and so spirited, the thought of that confidence being crushed makes me want to cry. It makes me want to grab her by the shoulders, look deeply into her eyes, and convince her, “You are perfect, you hear me? Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise!”
I think of my own adolescence and I shudder. Is a prepubescent existence ever easy? No. The answer is no. It wasn’t when I was a young girl for sure, and I fear it will be even harder for my girls.
There will always be issues with self-esteem, and I can easily recall looking at my Mom’s Vogue magazines, and thinking, wow, she’s thin! Is that what I’m supposed to look like?
Or I can recall admiring the older girls in school, then coming home and trying to recreate their wardrobe from my closet contents, or practice for hours in front of the mirror to get my hair to stand up that high. (Yep. 80s kid.)
My efforts were judged by a crowd of my peers I’m sure as I made the long walk down the junior high hall, praying that I wouldn’t slip since I was wearing non-skid dance flats with my insanely snug, tight-rolled jeans. A compliment from an upperclassmen boy would make my tween spirits soar, but otherwise, if no one seemed to notice then neither did I.
What I didn’t have was a quantifiable means with which to judge the popularity of my appearance, or others’ opinion of me. I couldn’t place a number on what other people saw, and then use that figure to decide if I was pretty enough, desirable, or well-liked.
My step-daughter has an Instagram account, and we quickly became friends on that social media outlet. Once friends with her, I received follows from other boys and girls around her same pre-teen age group. And what I saw bothered me.
I noticed these young men and women had a big interest in the number of followers their account received. They also desired likes for their photos, and would come right out and beg for them. They took screen shots of how many likes or follows they got that day, and I couldn’t help but wonder, why does it matter?
I see it, and I can see it’s a problem. I look at my daughter, and then I look at myself. I mean, I’m guilty too, right?
I started this blog with great intentions, and as an outlet for the things I felt led to share, but is my response always what it needs to be?
I remember when my first blog went semi-viral, with over 700K views. I practically crapped my pants! They like me! They like what I have to say!! I was so elated, and then the numbers trickled down.
Again, it happened, well over a million on another post. Yippee! Oh, they do like me! But the Today Show didn’t call, and I still went to work that weekend. Then the numbers went back down.
I’ve seen more viral blogs since, but I have decided they only serve to infect me with a false sense of importance. Isn’t that what going viral really is? Everyone wants to catch it, they all want a post to go viral, but then what?
To feel special for a moment, is that what social media is teaching our children?
Will my daughters enter into a social media tainted world view where they feel the need to gain followers and foster more likes? Will they falsely base their importance or self-worth on how many people comment on their photo? God, please, no!
I can see it happening around me, and I can see how easily one can be influenced. I can see that I must be even more vigilant as a parent, even more involved in protecting their hearts, and helping them develop a positive and realistic vision of themselves, and their self-worth.
It’s up to me to show them they are special, and insist that their value is not based on how many “friends” they have on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, or whatever else will be around when they get older.
It will also be up to me, as the parent, to curtail social media use if I see it tearing down their self-esteem, affecting them negatively, or, God forbid, them using it to make another person feel less. I don’t see that as being overly involved. I see it as being a parent.
Things have changed. Life is still hard, that is the same, but I know one thing. I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up in an adolescence full of selfies, video cameras in your pocket, or the possibility of having my teenage social life destroyed on a public, internet platform.
For now I am glad their main interests are dolls and dirt, rather than Instagram and Snapchat. And then I remember she asked me yesterday if four was finally old enough to have a phone.
Sigh. Is it too late to move to Amish country?