Anne RoshieComment


Anne RoshieComment

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day and by the time I hanged up the phone. I knew I would have to bring this up.

Back in the day, when social media was not around, a time when we jotted down letters and licked postage stamps, the days when we called each other, meet up and have a cuppa. We linked up and had actual face-time. We communicated. You had a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to your worries, a friend to lean on.  You would meet up with your friend just to meet up. Sometime no words need to be said just being in each other’s company was enough.

Then, social media came about. Great. Even better. We can socialize and see each other on the palm of our hands. Update our posts, put up videos of our cats and dog, ohh and aah at the first baby steps. Post our Game of thrones obsession. We drifted towards people who aligned with our values. The world seemed to find a way to be even more connected. Perfect right? Wrong.

According to a review study from Nottingham Trent University looked back over earlier research on the psychological characteristics, personality and social media use. The authors conclude that “it may be plausible to speak specifically of ‘Facebook Addiction Disorder’…because addiction criteria, such as neglect of personal life, mental preoccupation, escapism, mood modifying experiences, tolerance and concealing the addictive behavior, appear to be present in some people who use [social networks] excessively.

Not just Facebook, all social media platforms but Facebook seems to be the original Godfather. Sitting is the new smoking. We chow it down on our feeds.  That endless scroll. It's the new addiction.

My buddy who I'd been on the phone with was having a tough time but you would never know. All seems pretty and beautiful over on social.  It's easy to forget that life is not like that. You can't put a filter on things. There are some major euphoric moments then down right depressing ones. Nowadays, we mask it or portray that it does not exist or it’s not happening. Which can be debilitating to your health. It made me wonder how many times I have had the urge to call a friend however from their social platforms they seem OK. Fabulous even!

How can you know when someone is crying out for help when everything looks perfect. Filtered and well curated. Don't get me wrong, I love a beautiful layout on social. Visuals are everything to me. I get inspired by them. The colors, the art, the creativity, but we have to remember that's just what you see. No one wakes up with a VSCO filter on them. 

In the past, I've used the line “ I saw them on social, they seem fine.” Which makes me cringe today because what we portray on social is not necessarily what I going on in our day to day life. Things might be thick band that  face-tuned facade. Lord knows I have had my days and the only way I have pushed through is by talking and crying it out to the people around me who love and support me unconditionally. No man is an island! No matter how idyllic your island seems.

Nowadays, when I think of someone randomly, I check up on them. The universe might be telling me something. Caring is what makes us human. 

I love it when I am having actual face time with someone and I forget to check my phone. I find that we always have so much to talk about. I always leave feeling happy, lighter. We live in a cold world but if you have friends and family that warm your heart, reach out to them. Keep those fires alive.  Give someone a call. Tap into that old school way of communication, double tap on their doors not the phone screen.  Reconnect. Make plans to catch a cup of coffee or go for lunch. Talk. Laugh. Hear someone out. Listen. It’s good for the soul.


Took these images in Philly this past weekend. We found an alley that was covered with these beautiful leaves. It's getting really cold, winter is in the air. I find myself gravitating to all things black. I need to bring a little color in my life.

Coat: F21

Dress & Booties: Bershka

Tighs: HM

Sunnies: Ray Bans