Forgive me if I overshare on social media. I'm just trying to help
|
Version 0 of 1. I’m an avid Facebooker. I usually post happy snaps, political musings, lolcats and gratuitous food porn. So it probably came as a shock to my friends when I used the platform to announce my miscarriage. I had really clear motivations for the post: I wanted to be honest and open about my experience, so other friends who had been through the trauma of miscarriage could talk to me about it, both for their benefit and my own. And given one in four pregnancies end in miscarriage I wanted my friends to know they’d have someone to talk to if, in future, they had the same experience. Related: Overstepping the bounds: how blogger Emily Gould has been oversharing Reactions to my post ranged from “Um, that was an interesting decision” to “Wow, you’re so brave”. Neither of these reactions seemed to fit the bill for me. But I was sure of one thing: some of my friends had relegated the post to the lowest of social media rankings: oversharing. It’s difficult to define what “oversharing” is. Like vegemite chocolate, it’s apparently not the same experience for everyone. As a social media addict and long-time Facebook devotee I’d describe it as something that gives other people an uncomfortable and unnecessary insight into your personal life or bodily functions, without reason (“because it’s cool” or interesting to you doesn’t cut it.). But when I conducted a wide-ranging academic study of what the word oversharing means in a social media context (I asked my Facebook friends), the classic example was the parent who shares photos/status updates/tweets every time their kids breathed in, or, excitingly, out. Using my definition, though, sharing photos or video of your baby’s every whimper is not oversharing. It could be described as stunningly boring or repetitive, or totally lacking in insight as to the value of each and every stool (irrespective of colour or consistency) that your child bestows upon you.In what some might see as a slightly passive-aggressive form of contribution, one of my friends pointed out that posting photos of everything you eat in restaurants is a form of oversharing. This is something I’ve been known to do on occasion, or you know, daily. But in my own defence, my friends ask me, the group glutton, to suggest restaurants or give reviews. I refer them to my Facebook photo album. You might call it oversharing. I call it a valuable public service. Going back to the highly considered and methodically executed poll I conducted, some of the real-life case studies (dob-ins) my friends provided were staggering. They included but were not limited to: actual photos of bowel movements, spousal arguments played out on Twitter or Facebook, photos of a colonoscopy without warning (resulting in several de-friendings, the poster reported gleefully) and repeated “cryptic” messages designed for someone who recently dumped you (unclear whether the propensity to overshare was a contributing factor in the breakup). Related: Worst ideas of 2012: celebrities oversharing The most egregious was a photo posted by a new mum of her new baby exiting her vagina. This might seem extreme, but far more common is the ubiquitous ultrasound photo to announce a pregnancy. Before you post your ultrasound, have a serious think about what it actually is: a photo of your unborn baby sitting inside your body, your womb. Yes, I became your friend on Facebook to stay in touch, keep up to date with big news events in your life and share articles and news of interest. I did not become your friend on Facebook to get a complimentary, first-class ticket to wombsville. In the words of a dear friend: “Your ultrasound is a matter for you, your partner and your gynaecologist”. But let’s take a different example, a new mum who’s posting repeatedly and with growing despair a difficult baby, perhaps with colic or who’s teething badly. What if she’s in a new city? Or her friends don’t realise she’s struggling more than the average sleep-deprived new parent? What if those posts aren’t designed to be boring, but are instead an opportunity for someone else, even someone she don’t know well, to reach out and give her some support or advice? When I asked the same social media control group (my Facebook friends) about posts around depression, the answers didn’t flow nearly as freely. While there have been many campaigns for awareness of the illness, it can still be incredibly difficult for people to reach out a ask for the help they need. As depression takes hold, often those suffering from it isolate themselves as a form of protection. The isolation then becomes a symptom of the illness, forming a damaging and seemingly unbreakable circle of descent into despair. Despite huge strides in collective understanding of depression, posts about “dark days” can be too often classed as oversharing. This is both dangerous and risky, as we’ve seen from people who’ve left clear social media footprints outlining serious battles with mental illness. Miscarriage is not a topic that seems to be talked about widely and as I suspected, once I posted about it, many friends, both male and female, publicly and privately, came to me to talk about their own experiences, ask me questions and offer me support. Related: Ultrasound parties? Let's confront this culture of oversharing | Jean Hannah Edelstein While some social media oversharing can seemingly be clearly identified (I’m 13 weeks pregnant, but don’t expect an ultrasound post any time soon) other topics are more difficult to pigeonhole. Be generous on social media when you read the posts of others. The one thing social media isn’t lacking is people who are quick to judge. If you relegate everything to the whinging or oversharing basket, you might miss the opportunity to give someone a helping hand that they desperately need. But do us a favour? Unless you’re launching a campaign to fight bowel cancer, spare us the colonoscopy diary. We’ve got our own shit to be getting on with. |