(Almost) A year ago, Friday, November, 25th, I made a decision to change my life. Brought on by pure impulsive energy, I deleted Snapchat off my phone for good. This was not a simple one-week detox. I made a commitment to separate myself from all my friend’s and family’s everyday lives, thoughts, and social gatherings. I did not get rid of this addicting app because I felt it was the driving source of my FOMO (“Fear Of Missing Out”) or social anxiety, it was because I found it a drag and wanted out.
This simple yet viral app quickly changed the meaning of modern communication. Speaking has turned into texting, sending pictures, and transforming your face into a dog as your sole response to a friend’s quick hello. Just as I deleted snapchat from my phone, Snapchat deleted normal communication from everyday life. People no longer even reached across the keyboard to type “lol” or “haha”, they resorted to a quick picture of their face, or a blurry video of their crazy night playing on repeat on their story. Something that could bring people together with ease, ended up forcing people so far off from actually talking and having a normal conversation. “How are you?” was replaced with a rainbow mouth, and a genuine smile was replaced with a flower crown over someone’s head, or even better, an effect that makes you into a “prettier” version of yourself.
Now in conversation, when someone asks me for my Snapchat, or asks if I watched this hilarious story from earlier that day, I quiet down and shift my gaze away. I don’t necessarily like telling people I deleted snapchat, because all of a sudden they praise me for something they say they could never do, or gawk at me and ask me to add it back. I become this hero for opting to talk to people in person, or even over text, and that is something I don’t necessarily understand. One of my best friends still yells at me to add snapchat back so I can hear about his life, but why can’t he tell me personally instead of in a mass snapchat to a group of completely different people? I missed the intimacy of conversation and catching up with an old friend.
These were the reasons I got sick and tired of Snapchat. These were the driving forces behind my rebellion against society that caused jaws to drop and heads to turn around. I would find myself every night in bed quickly hitting through every mass snap I would receive. Tapping quickly with my right thumb to empty that pink box (if it’s still pink, I am not positive), and see what my friends had to say, or better yet to show, to keep our streaks from dying. Suddenly, friendship lost its genuineness and became a lighthearted competition. Friends would hit 700 days snapchatting each other in a row, but would forget to ask how each other’s days were.
If you liked what I said, maybe you should join me in deleting Snapchat and see how long that streak can last.
Image courtesy of WikiHow