When I was younger, my friends and I had great conversations.
We laughed together, cried together, and shared the stuff of life. However, not
once did I ever see a picture of what any of them had for dinner. Nor did we
ever have a moment to moment journal of what our pervading emotion of the day
was, complete with an emoji or two. Shoot. We didn’t even know what an emoji
was.
Now, though, in this enlightened age, all I have to do is
turn on my computer, swipe my phone, or pull out my tablet and all this information
and more, oh, so much more, is eagerly available.
Let me be clear. I love people. A people
person I am. Put me in a room with strangers and I’ll find a way to start a conversation
with most of them and find out more about their lives.
But I do believe we have entered into the age of overshare. Whether it be stark details of an elementary
school classmate’s colonoscopy, the political rantings and hate speech of a
distant relative, or the vivid picture of a crusty sore on the arm of a former
colleague, I feel I know too much these days.
Social media has swerved into a realm no one could have
predicted. It is a world where personal boundaries are stretched, where what used
to be intimate information is put on the plate for public consumption. In a
doctor’s office recently, I sat a chair over from two young women who were
going through the medical history form. They worked through it interview style,
with one conversationally asking the other the questions on the form, then writing
down the answers. They took no pause for even the most private questions,
keeping their vocal registers at the same level they’d use for a talk in a loud
bar.
An older gentleman cleared his throat abruptly after one
particularly personal detail from the interviewee echoed off the brightly lit
walls. The twentysomethings, though, plowed on, even as the questions begat
answers that would their mothers cringe.
Close to the end of the second page, the interviewer stopped
and laughed. “Can you believe these questions?” she asked as she swept her hand
over the sheet with her handwritten answers. “I’ve got to get a picture of
this.” She pulled out her phone, focused and snapped a few pictures of the
almost completed medical history and then moved in close to her friend, held
the phone in front of them and after they’d both mashed their mouths into duck lips,
snapped several more. She showed the phone to her friend, who swiped her finger
across the screen and nodded.
“It’s fine for Reddit, but on Instagram, be sure you use
that collage frame with the really cute bandaids on it. That way they’ll know
the torture we’re having to go through at the doctor’s office!” They chortled
as the phone holder fiddled momentarily with it.
“We’ve already got eight likes on Facebook,” she informed
the other. “Maybe we’ll break 100 before you are done with your appointment!”
So I put it to you, dear friends. Are we in an age of
overshare, or am I stuck in the past, thinking a little mystery about a
person is a good thing?
