I distinctly remember the day my high school-aged sister got a Facebook account followed shortly thereafter by my mother. I was mortified. You see, when my college was added to THE Facebook it was an exclusive website (because “platform” wasn’t in our vernacular yet) - a space where we could share our shenanigans and send each other semi-public messages without the prying eyes of our families. Eventually, as we know, it became Facebook and we could do more things, like upload photos which would preclude most from running for public office in the future (again, things we didn’t know then - despite the fact that apparently yearbook photos of yore could be equally damning).

I should point out, I’m only referencing Facebook because Myspace, Friendster, BlackPlanet, etc. were not online places I was concerned about running into my immediate family.

I recognize the fine hypocrisy line I’m teetering along having started a “lifestyle blog” with accompanying Instagram account to share my experiences with the worldwide web. The simple fact is this is a gray area. However, my issue is not necessarily what you are sharing, it’s what you might be missing out on in the time you’re capturing, curating, and disseminating.

Here’s the things:

Put the phone down.

This is perhaps the thing that kills me the most. When Instagram became popular, naysayers’ favorite rant was that people were posting pictures of their food instead of eating it, let alone enjoying it. This is the same damn thing.

I find myself growing increasingly agitated - maybe even crotchety with age - when I’m trying to enjoy a moment with friends or family but their devices get in the way. I have no qualms telling my loved ones to put their phones away, and have been known to stop mid-conversation and wait for eye contact. Those close to me know that if I don’t respond to a text or other digital communication in a timely fashion it’s because I’m with other people or asleep. (I’d also much rather talk on the phone like it was originally intended.) I don’t subscribe to the concepts of rapid response and instant gratification. I often have to stop and remind myself to take a group picture at the end of a gathering because I put so much of my energy into enjoying the moment and storing the memories.

And when it comes to kids. . .

Your kids didn’t sign up for this.

Frankly, what you choose to do with your child’s image is your choice (to an extent). But, when do you start considering your child rather than the reactions of your social network? I chose to follow you - yes, your significant other, and your offspring (and pets) are part of your identity now - but strike a balance until your offspring (since your pets can’t as of yet) choose to sign up for this themselves.

I quite literally cringe when I see videos of kids essentially directing themselves. It seems as though children have become so accustomed to trying to look past the back of their parents’ iPhones and Androids to see their loving eyes react to them that they have fully realized and accepted that their own actions aren’t for their parents, but for the people on the other side of that tiny lens on their parents’ phone. Don’t get me wrong, there are certainly VHS tapes of both my sister and me hamming it up in front of the camera. The difference is, we knew we were supposed to be putting on a show if the camcorder was rolling, but our mom didn’t have that suction cup viewfinder adhered to one eyeball everyday of the week - it was reserved for special occasions. And the viewings of those tapes? They were on demand when friends and family were gathered together, they weren’t instantly uploaded for public consumption.

I know you know where I’m coming from.

In the case of the people I follow, every single one of them is not new to social media. As a matter of fact, almost all were early adopters, just like I was. Which, in theory, means they know the exact feeling of mortification I felt when parents started showing up on our platforms. Think of every time your dad asked you a personal question by posting it on your wall, or your mom took photos of your family albums and tagged you in your most embarrassing moments, or your great uncle invited you to play Candy Crush. Now, fast forward 12 years. Your child’s social media presence over the past decade is an amplification of what your family subjected you to online. Do you really want your kids to think of you the way you thought of your great uncle?

So, you don’t agree? That is just fine! I swear!

I’m not saying to stop digitally documenting your life, just be aware of the people and places you’re spending time with while your doing it and shift the emphasis to the highlights. I absolutely love when my friend texts me pictures of her sons as “Auntie Shana updates” - even if they weren’t taken exclusively for me. I miss not living near those little dudes and it’s a connection that’s important to me. It carries a deeper significance when the spontaneous times she chooses to share her family with her social network are exclusive of the moments she shares directly with her loved ones.

Some people may not want you texting them pictures of their kids or the amazing Michelin rated dinner they had, but how will you know what your friends would like to see from you if you aren’t engaging them outside of social media? Seriously, I understand that parenting is a full-time job on top of your profession and that it is easier not to have to tailor your shares from one person to the next. Really, I get it. But if you reallocate the time you spend with your phone between your face and that precious face you created to a few minutes here and there to send a text, make a phone call, send an email, write a letter (gasp!) to those of your “followers” FKA “friends” whose reactions you truly value imagine what an impact it will have on the quality of your relationships. And if you do choose to continue to share in the way you currently are, just be more judicious about when you’re doing it and why you’re doing it.