Loss and Social Media

I will never forget landing in the San Francisco airport on the morning of March 8, 2019.

My husband died the night before in Northern California. I was in Miami for work when I got the call and I wasn't able to get a flight out that night. I had to wait out that terrible night in a hotel room.

I immediately logged off of Facebook when I got the news. I had to call friends and family members across the country with the worst news possible. The last thing I wanted to deal with was social media.

But some time between boarding in Miami and landing in San Francisco, some family members posted about Bill. And as soon as my phone was out of flight mode, it blew up with messages, texts, and missed calls.

I'd tried to tell everyone who needed to know the night before. I hadn't slept at all. My eyes stung and my nose was chapped from crying all night. How was I going to reply to every single message I'd just gotten?

Loss is already treacherous terrain but social media turns it into a minefield. Well-intentioned friends post about loss before survivors are ready to handle the onslaught. Or, someone posts about the loss with no explanation about what happened, leaving viewers confused and concerned. Or - and this invariably happens - the survivors don't post about it often enough and social media acquaintances assume they've already moved on.

I used to manage a team of online wine experts who helped retail customers through a live chat platform. One of the things we had to emphasize constantly for new hires is that chat has no tone. Whatever the tone is in your mind might not be what comes through to the customer. I find this to be very similar on social media. Even on my darkest days, I'd try to post something beautiful or even cheerful because I couldn't handle anymore sadness. But my lack of public display had people assuming I was done - That was it! No more grief! And, this was about as far from the truth as possible.

Social media also invites loads of unsolicited advice. People I barely knew would chime in about what was best for me and it really ruffled me at first. Eventually, I learned to just ignore such comments and keep scrolling, and if it was something that bothered me to the point of being offensive, I'd delete it.

Through all of this, though, I really re-evaluated my relationship with social media. I've learned to not post anyone else's news other than my own, regardless of whether it's a joyous event or a devastating one. I've also learned not to react to other people's posts or assumptions. We really have no idea what's going on on the other side of the screen, so getting myself worked up about it was just a waste of emotions that were already spread too thin.

I suppose the takeaway is really a broader one: tread lightly. We can't see people's full lives. We don't know what pain or grief they're carrying. And we can only hope that others have the same grace with us.