The Internet and I: 20 Years With My Lifelong Frenemy

The internet and I go way back. She is my lifelong frenemy who I spend most of my day with. I love being here for over 20 years now, but I hate it too.

I have been feeling kind of stuck with everything lately. The only thing I felt like doing was lying on the couch, watching 911, and reading gardening books with a good glass of red. And I felt guilty! Like I was dropping the ball on my creative project, yet again.

I have been online for 20 years now, and my relationship with the internet and finding a place online has always been difficult for me. I never really felt at home on any platform, and after trying and abandoning every account under the sun, I have nothing to show for it. No following, no audience, and sometimes it feels like: no voice. 

By trying to “fit in” and constantly going with the tide, I learned a lot but never took root anywhere. When I discovered Substack, it was the first time I felt like I might fit in. As a writer at heart, just maybe, I might have a home online. And I tried to talk myself in and out of this hundreds of times. My inner critic would wonder why this newest project will be any different? After all, I do have terrible online commitment issues. But my inner coach would push me to try it out and see if this is something worth pursuing. 

I tried to get to the bottom of why I feel this way. Why do I have this need to have a place online, and why do I struggle with committing to an online project. I did that the only way I know how: by writing it out.

And it resulted in a conversation between my inner critic and coach about my lifelong friendship with the internet. At first, the critic won. I am more of a realist than an optimist and try to be prepared for everything. So the negative won, and it made for one depressing piece of writing. All doom and gloom. Then, I tried to see the positive side of everything I wrote, and that shifted my perspective and mood to such a degree that you are now reading what you are reading. An actual piece of writing.

20 years online

I was born in 1990, I am older than Google and witnessed the birth of home-internet-access. I danced to the sound of the modem connecting to the online world and was a participant in what many agree was the wild west era of the online world.

Unsplash, by Mathieu Bigard

As a teenager I joined Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Pinterest, Blogger ... name a platform, and I’ve probably joined it at some point. As any teenager would, I tried to define myself. On- and offline. As an introvert, it should have been easier online, but the possibilities of how to define myself (through writing, photos, videos in different formats, and vibes) kept growing. It grew too much too fast and I felt like I was missing out. Missing a possibility to define myself, to find my voice. I never took root anywhere. I joined a platform, tested it out, stuck with it, and then abandoned it once the next possibility went online.

But the endless possibilities also allowed me to uncover all parts of myself. All my interests and all my skills. I learned more about my skills in this time period than any other. I was on an endless search for myself and never put down roots anywhere, but that is the reason I discovered all of me. I might not have a following, but I lost nothing and gained all.

I graduated high school a few years after the financial crisis - a time period that gave birth to hustle culture. “You can beat the market, if you just work hard enough. You need to be productive, efficient, always on, and always online. And you need to have a voice, a niche that you are passionate about. And oh, don’t forget to make it look easy and perfect.” I am a lover of many things who was forced to pick one thing to “niche down”. I managed to make it look picture-perfect and easy. It wasn’t. 

I was half-me, a fraction of myself, trying to be passionate about that one thing, and that one thing only. Constantly trying and worrying about the most aesthetically pleasing picture for the gram of the thing I was supposed to be passionate about, instead of actually being passionate about it.

Choosing a niche did not limit me, it focused me. Choosing just one passion, made me really good at it. A level of skill I would not have achieved by following everything and nothing. Would I have learned to edit photos without all the forced aesthetics on Instagram? No. Would I have learned to take good photos or how to create mockups without showcasing my art on Instagram? No. Would I have gotten as good as I did with illustrating and painting without posting about it on Instagram? No.

I was in my mid-20s when videos on social media and podcasts became a thing. And with it came the noise. The aesthetically pleasing filters and manicured branding concepts stayed, now just overlayed with noise. And in between the noise: Ads. Ads on ads on ads. Buy, shop, purchase X to achieve Y.

This time period definitely was hell on my budget. But I learned how to be comfortable with clothes and make up. I found “my style” and found a way to express myself in the real world through the way I look. The oversaturation of advertising actually media trained me. I now know what ad to trust, what product is worth it, and what to avoid.

In my late 20s, I stopped posting and interacting on social media altogether. The noise got too much. I wanted and still want the world to feel quiet, and saying or posting anything is making noise. 

The “niching down” also got too much. I wanted to embrace all parts of me, and not pretend to be single-faceted. 

After becoming an expert at something, after learning who I am and how to express myself - I did deserve this break. This break was a pat on my shoulder by myself, a celebration of the woman I have become.

Then, the pandemic hit. A strange time period that I cannot quantify with age. Age didn’t exist during covid, time simply seemed to stop. TikTok was a nice reprieve at first, after Netflix was watched through. A platform full of noise, but without the filters. Without the niche. Without the perfection. Without the ads. What took other social platforms almost a decade, only took a couple years for TikTok. From being a chaotic, everyone-can-do-anything platform, it turned into an influencer-powered 24/7 shopping channel where everyone looks the same. And it stopped being fun.

It might have stopped being fun, but it was fun for a long while. And I learned so much. How to take care of my skin and frizzy hair. I started reading again and went from reading zero books to 50 books a year. I discovered new artists from all genres that have enriched my mind and put a smile on my face.

Now, in my mid-30s, I am still trying to figure myself out online. I discovered Substack a year ago. A quiet place for writers, where words matter more than the aesthetics. Where pictures and videos are a nice add-on, but not the focus. Where community and interactions are treasured. Where introverts can be themselves. But what took other social platforms almost a decade, only took a couple of years for Substack. Now, video is the star of the content show. And my newly discovered quiet home, which I only recently discovered and have lovingly nurtured and decorated, might soon no longer be quiet.

Change is constant. It always has. And if I’ve learned one thing in the past 20 years online, it is that nothing lasts forever. So how about this: Instead of trying to be perfect, try to be you. All parts of you. And just stick with it, in one place.

XOXO
Annika