I started and Instagram account for my dogs many years back. I did it under the guise of dipping a toe into social media with a young, teenage daughter who was begging for access to Instagram. This, I reasoned, would be a way for the two of us to surf it together and discuss what we see, what people say, and how it all works.
It ended up being my own, selfish little endeavor. It was and is a place to post photos and write things that are funny. Writing about dogs is easy; writing about myself is like walking through a minefield. What will I say that sends the wrong message? Who will be offended by my opinion? What if my personal social media account proves only that I’m boring and unworthy of the written word? Using an account to try and seek validation, glorify my life, outfit and/or brag about vacations has never held appeal.
A handful of days into the George Floyd riots (or maybe afterwards, I can’t recall), someone messaged me privately on Instagram and told me she felt I should be ashamed of myself for not using my platform to stand up for what is right and good. I should post and write something about the current political environment, the injustice and hatred and pain…all of it. I should be ashamed for not declaring whose side I’m on, she wrote, for not declaring where I stand and denouncing those who don’t align with me (us).
I didn’t respond to that message. I understood where she was coming from. And I understood what she wanted from me.
I choose to keep my silly dog-focused Instagram right where it is. I like to write and interact on my account with one goal and one goal only: I want to make people laugh and smile. (Okay, that’s two goals.).
