I’ve been thinking I wanted to write a post on social media. On what it’s doing to us as a culture. What is does to me.
How I think I might be addicted to it at times.
Wait. Did I actually say that out loud??
But, as I’ve been wrestling through this issue, this issue of checking and re-checking Facebook, Instagram or Twitter…it hit me.
It’s not really about social media.
It’s about me. It’s about my heart.
Far back as I can remember, I’ve longed for approval. Validation.
“Daddy do you like this?” I’d say holding up a picture.
In later years it was “Look at my report card!”
Coming down the stairs with a sheepish grin on my face because, dangit, I had a cute outfit on, my make-up was all in place and I just got my hair did.
Wasn’t anyone going to tell me how pretty I was?
So continued the cycle, from 3 until…well about now.
Striving, striving. Please love me. Please love me.
More striving. Tell me I’m beautiful. I’m smart. I’m talented.
Worthy of your time.