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A mother's dilemma: judging love by its digital footprint
Fresh off my graduation, my family was ecstatic – not so much about my academic achievement, but about the prospect of my marriage. As the eldest daughter in a South Asian household, this milestone marked the beginning of a new kind of quest for them.
Soon after, my mother was bombarded by photos of "eligible bachelors" from her circle of friends; and much to my dismay, some of these filtered their way to me too. But I had my priorities straight… out of a romance novel. Yes, I was going to marry for love.
Two years later, my mother managed to guilt-trip me into considering a proposal that seemed perfect on the surface. The guy checked all the boxes: good-looking, age-appropriate, and financially stable. Yet, for me, it wasn't enough.
'I need to get to know him first,' I affirmed, meeting my mother's expressions – a mixture of surprise and dismay at my forwardness. Still, she held her tongue – perhaps appeased by the fact that I had at least agreed to consider the proposal.
'But you already know everything about him,' she replied matter-of-factly. It was my turn to stare at her, mirroring her earlier expression of bewilderment.
Before I could muster a defense, my sister swiftly pulled up the guy's Facebook profile in a well-meaning effort to give me a glimpse into his personality. I will not lie – I was curious. It landed in my favor that his profile was public – all features open for the world to see and perceive. With each post I scrolled past, my reluctant agreement to consider the proposal slowly unraveled, piece by piece.
My mother was petrified and I reveled in her unease. My excuse to back out of the proposal stared at me in the form of outdated memes, vague statuses, and an overwhelming number of shares from conspiracy theory pages on the screen of my phone. It was also the go-ahead for me to continue my side quest of seeking love in this dark, sad world.
As I basked in the relief of being free from scrutinizing any more motorized photos for the next few days, a nagging thought crept in – had my judgment of the guy been too harsh and unprovoked? Replaying the series of events, I began to question my tendency to construct an image of a person based solely on their social media posts. If anything, it was a stark reminder for me to revisit my own feed and do a deep cleanse of the brain-rot content I had posted and forgotten about.
With the luxurious and idealistic lifestyles of those around us plastered across social media came the warning to 'not believe everything we see on the internet'. However, at the same time, a term called 'Digital footprint' was coined, giving people a license to sway their perception of others based on their social media presence.
This practice of 'never forget' has gradually expanded beyond social media influencers and celebrities to encompass everyday people in our lives – like the coworker we greet with a wary side-eye on Monday morning because their last Instagram story cryptically called out 'snakes in the form of colleagues.'
Our digital footprint entails but is not limited to social media activity, including likes, comments, and shares, tagged posts, and professional updates. It is certainly a harrowing realization that I could take one glimpse at your feed (that you haven't updated for the past few months by the way) and make a decision of a lifetime. And just like that, what we post on the internet no longer stays there. It pervades every aspect of our lives, impacting relationships, and most of all, raising questions about the dissonance between our social media persona and real-life one. While some of our shares are definitely strategic, others are simply fleeting thoughts. Yet, once shared, they become puzzle pieces to our personality in the mind of our followers, put together to reflect a skewed perception of who we truly are.
Though I can't help but wince when my Facebook opens to a 10-year-old memory, reminding me of my 14-year-old self who used to express my frustrations with my mother through a mix of random capital and lowercase letters, I wouldn't put it past a new friend to disown me over my digital footprint packaging phases of a hormonal teenager, sappy poet, diehard fangirl, and a relatively collected self over the years.
This isn't to say that the judgements are always wrong – just very conclusive, entailing far-reaching consequences for many. After all, posting and interacting on social media are two very conscious actions. However, a seemingly harmless post in the past could resurface years later and dramatically influence how we are perceived in professional or social circles.
Celebrities and social media influencers are inarguably the biggest victims of their own digital footprints that often come back to haunt them at their most prime. More often than not, they bear the brunt of online animosity via regurgitation of their past remarks or actions, made during a time of ignorance or lack of awareness.
This impact is also prominent in the professional context. According to a
CareerBuilder survey
from 2020, 70% of employers screen candidates' social media profiles during the hiring process, and over half of them have rejected candidates based on what they found. If something as critical as a job can hinge on our digital footprints, how can we expect relationships or perceptions to be any different?
The benefit of doubt lies in the presumptive dissonance of their actual persona to what they appear to be on social media. Just like I wouldn't want someone to label me unhinged based on my contradictory social media presence, it would be unfair of me to overlook the gap between the curated versions of ourselves online and the complexities of our off-screen lives.
Growth is an essential part of life – it is the evidence of our existence. The lack of context surrounding outdated posts refuses others the margin of evolution – whether it's through gaining new knowledge, maturing emotionally, or simply learning from their past mistakes. The inherent danger of relying too heavily on digital footprints to shape our perception of someone is the loss of ability to account for how a person might have changed since then.
Social media posts undoubtedly reflect a person's values and interests, but they do not tell the full story. In fact, our feeds are often a collection of moments captured on impulse – ranging from an unwarranted rant about an injustice, a passionate stance on a political issue, to a poorly worded joke. While these posts may hold weight, they do not encapsulate the entirety of our personality, nor are they sentiments set in stone.
Hence, as I continue on my journey to dodge as many proposals as possible (even the better ones), here is a lesson or two: our digital footprints do not exist as the mirror of our personalities but rather as fragmented reflections of who we once were, overridden by moments of impulse and external influences.
So, the next time you're tempted to dismiss someone based on their disjointed social media posts, maybe encourage your mother to meet them in person first..
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