Dear Bel,
I’m 42 and two years ago, to mark my big birthday, I walked away from social media completely.
I was addicted – endlessly scrolling, comparing myself to everyone, anxious about likes and comments.
Leaving it felt like quitting smoking: withdrawal, but afterwards freer, calmer and healthier.
I’ve become almost evangelical about it. I see social media as poisonous and want to model healthy behaviours for my children.
They don’t have phones yet and I’ve worked hard to remove any digital footprint that could compromise their privacy.
I want them to grow up understanding that real connection matters more than likes or followers.
The challenge is that other people don’t always respect these boundaries – even when they mean well.
My mother-in-law, for example, loves sharing photos of my children on Facebook.
She’s proud of them and I love that she is, but she often sneaks pictures online despite my repeated requests not to. My sister does the same.
I know they don’t intend harm – they’re celebrating the kids, showing them off to friends and family – but in my gut I know it’s not OK. They think I’m making a fuss, but I know I’m right.
I believe that in the future we will look back at the over-sharing of our lives in the same way we now cringe at indoor smoking, drink-driving or people not wearing seatbelts.
Social media will be seen as a risk to children’s wellbeing and I want to shield mine while I still can.
How do I make other people respect this?
Gemma
You are very wise – of that I have no doubt. About 15 years ago I used to laugh at my daughter because she arrived at our then home and immediately started scrolling on Facebook.
I simply didn’t understand her obsession. Why would you share good things and argue about bad things with total strangers?
But then I fell. A friend persuaded me to try Facebook and gradually I became as addicted as my daughter was then. I resisted Twitter (now called X), Instagram and the rest, and kicked my Facebook habit for about six weeks last year, but generally I enjoy chatting with friends and strangers, too.
Yet I believe you are quite right to view social media in such negative terms.
I agree with you that it has caused – and continues to cause – untold damage, especially to the young. It depresses me to get on a train and see people hunched over their phones, endlessly scrolling, where once they read newspapers, magazines and books or talked to each other.
I once watched a mother fixated on her phone all the way from London to Bath while her small son tried and failed to get her attention. From the death of reading to serious mental health problems and appalling political activism, social media is responsible for so much harm.
Yet… I started with my own confession and I’m sure your family and friends would be the same. It’s very hard to persuade any sort of addict that their habit is (generally speaking) damaging.
As you say, your mother-in-law and sister are only sharing the pictures from love and pride.Nevertheless, as the mother of those children you have every right to ask them not to. There are a lot of weird and unpleasant people in the world and it’s perfectly understandable that you wouldn’t want them peering at photographs of your children.
But do moderate your tone of voice. You have seen the light and want others to see it, too. You loathe social media and want to convert those who still ‘believe’. But those who still like playing around on Facebook might not want to be preached at, so do moderate.
It’s tempting to try to convince others as to the wisdom of your thoughts, but there’s always a danger that they might think you a pain in the neck. Yes – set your ‘boundaries’.
On the other hand, as your children get older and ask for mobile phones you will find it almost impossible to resist.
Good luck with trying. In the meantime, you can continue to check on what family members post by peeking at your husband’s phone (as you explained in your longer letter), and if they use pictures of your children, then repeat your ban with good humour but unmistakable firmness. That’s all.
I’m so afraid of a lonely Christmas
Dear Bel,
I am 73 and have been widowed for three years, which has been hard to deal with.
I fill my time with various classes, volunteering and meeting up with a few friends in a similar situation. I am grateful for all of this.
In the past, Christmas was always a big thing in my small family and I acknowledge this had to change.
I have one son who lives two hours’ drive away. His fiancee is lovely but they do not want children, which I accept is their choice.
But each year I find myself worrying, weeks before Christmas, whether I’ll be with them or not. She has a divorced mother and father and obviously wants to see them.
I appreciate it can get stressful for my son and his fiancee to try and fit us all in, but I am the only parent who is on their own. I hate to appear needy or pathetic, but am filled with dread at possibly spending Christmas alone. I would feel my life has been such a failure.
A couple of lovely friends have said I can go to them, but I’d feel like a spare part and embarrassed that my only son doesn’t realise how important it is to me to be with my own family.
He is very good at phoning and texting me, but doesn’t realise how lonely this time of year can be when you are on your own. My only brother died a year ago so my sister-in-law now goes to one of her two sons.
How do I deal with this uncertainty every year?
Margaret
As soon as Christmas decorations appear in the shops many people start to experience a sinking feeling. You are far from being alone.
Family break-ups can reverberate down the years, because festivals like Christmas and birthdays can never be the same. I have a deeply personal understanding of this and share the pain of all who mourn the celebrations they have lost.
What’s more, we have no choice but to accept the new reality imposed by death.
Our beloved dead will for ever be there with us, especially at times which had great significance. It can make you feel very sad to remember, but the only option is learning how to come to terms with that fact.
You are not necessarily being ‘needy or pathetic’. Yes, of course you have a ‘need’ to know, but there is nothing ‘pathetic’ about it. It’s the most normal thing in the world to want to be with family at Christmas. I see no reason why you shouldn’t let your son know that. I suspect he would be upset if he realised how much the uncertainty is bothering you.
To side-track, this sentence bothers me: ‘A couple of lovely friends have said I can go to them, but I’d feel like a spare part.’
You say you’d feel ‘embarrassed’ because of not being with your son.
Margaret, you just have to snap out of this nonsense, because what it reveals is potentially damaging to your friendships and your relationship with your son.
Suppose your son and his fiancee decided to take a trip away one Christmas? There would be nothing wrong, let alone selfish or cruel, in such a decision – and a loving mother would acknowledge their freedom of choice and excitement.
At that time you would be glad to be invited by friends. This ‘spare part’ language of self-pity and negativity diminishes them as well as you. If you believe your friends would pity you, that wilfully turns away from their generosity and affection.
You are right to want to be with your son but wrong to think such an arrangement is the only one that proves your status in life.
Loving your son doesn’t make you ‘needy or pathetic’ but believing his obligation to you is the only thing worth valuing does.
I think you should write to him and tell him that you want to make your Christmas plans, because dear old X has invited you to spend the day with them. Say that being with him and his lovely lady is always number one on your list – so what does he think?
If he replies that they really feel they should entertain her mum or dad (and partner) this year, then reply – with good cheer and grace – ‘That’s fine, I’ll have a lovely time with X, but maybe we can get together at New Year?’ Or, ‘Of course, we could all have fun together – I’d like to see [whichever one it is] and could stay in a hotel?’
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and speak! And fix this in your mind: Christmas with dear friends who want your company is something to be celebrated.
And finally… Voices for good must drown out the bad
These days I often get messages from friends, sometimes sending a cartoon or some uplifting words, and beginning: ‘The world is pretty grim so I thought you’d like . . .’
I’m never quite sure whether they think I need cheering up, or whether they are trying to do it for themselves.
Is the world indeed so grim? Yes, it can seem so. On the other hand, when you’ve lived for quite a long time, you can look back and realise it was ever thus.
Some of us remember being terrified of ‘the Bomb’. Now I’m equally frightened of disturbing and unacceptable changes to the great Judeo-Christian culture that is the bedrock of our civilisation.
I get angry. There is always something to keep you awake at night.
People often blame religion. Yet it’s important to remember that enshrined within all the major faiths of the world is the Golden Rule (or versions of it) which, if only it was obeyed, would mean we could all live in harmony. Let me remind you of the tenets.
Christianity (my own religion) instructs: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
Hinduism says: Treat others as you would yourself be treated.
For Islam it is: Do unto all men as you would wish to have done unto you.
And for Judaism: What you yourself hate, do to no man.
Those of you who like to think of yourself as humanist, pagan or whatever, might like the following Native American tenet: Live in harmony, for we are all related. Or the global sacred earth belief: Do as you will, as long as you harm no one.
There is a theme running through all of them, isn’t there? But human beings are weak and wicked, and the good people among us generally find our voices drowned out by the bad.
So we must shout louder.
