Remember life without smartphones, when a notification didn’t cause one to be anxious or annoyed–but rather, excited to see who was calling or who texted? That time when we logged on to Facebook in awe, finding an old classmate or neighbor who migrated abroad when we were really young?
I remember the 2010s vividly, as it became a playground for connectivity and digital convenience. From Blackberries to Nokias, Androids, and iPhones, we witnessed this evolution in the palm of our hands. As it was a formative decade for smartphones, so were identities, careers, and relationships. We took it rather haphazardly, not really caring about whether or not the status we post or the profile picture we choose “reflects our branding,” so to speak.
Most millennials, myself included, learned how to be social online: creating a Y!M account, uploading a Multiply album, tweeting, and using a Clarendon filter.
Most millennials, myself included, learned how to be social online: creating a Y!M account, uploading a Multiply album, tweeting, and using a Clarendon filter. We were the first users and had fun with these strange, new digital advancements. Ultimately, these fast-evolving digital platforms became tools for connection and changed how we spend our time–and interact with others.
All the same, that time, it was alien to hear that our next-door cubicle neighbor works remotely from the beach, that half the team goes to the office only twice a week and still gets things done, and that you can earn a living from uploading videos of yourself trying on makeup or of mukbang.
To be a young, hip, working professional back then meant working at the top business districts in Metro Manila—BGC, Makati, or Ortigas, where the crowds can be crazy and the commute, chaotic. What was part of a corporate weekday schedule back then was waiting for the rush hour to subside without the help of the internet. I wasn’t alone in this; I found myself waiting with my workmates, and we would let traffic pass by running in Ayala Triangle, trying out a new cafe, visiting an exhibit at The Collective, or just getting two bottles at our then-third place.
It was nice, and we looked forward to the next day, and the next. A lot of good memories were created. Because we had something in common to relate to, getting to know each other became natural, and there were no expectations.
These days, our digital platforms have become pigeonholes of group chats upon group chats, and it’s become the norm to meet in person—but end up talking on our phones.
As time progressed, we moved through life, where we partook in despedida parties and celebrations left and right. We moved from Act One to Act Two of Adulthood and created and navigated through our own scripts and maps. Reality descended, and we went onwards to make a living, build relationships, or start a family.
For some, that entailed moving to different companies, cities, and countries. Some friendships shifted online and depended on matching time zones. FaceTime (then Skype) before work became a new routine for catching up and spending time with people. Emails have become a work function and are rarely used nowadays to start a conversation with someone.
These days, our digital platforms have become pigeonholes of group chats upon group chats, and it’s become the norm to meet in person—but end up talking on our phones. I found myself in long-distance relationships and heavily relied on social media to check in and peek at what a random Tuesday in Albuquerque is like. Some days go unnoticed. Still, there are tiny poignant moments—a joke remembered, a place where we created memories, something new that replaced the old, infamous outfits, seeing friends do nothing together, where I find myself laughing-crying. It would almost always be a duality of emotions—I felt helpless but grateful, lonely but secure, and nostalgic but comforted.
The pandemic restrictions and health protocols stress-tested our productivity, mental health, and relationships.
Alas, in 2020, time was suspended during the pandemic, giving us a taste of virtual reality. Suddenly, everyone was in long-distance relationships. Birthdays in 2020 brought out our creativity—it felt like high school all over again. Everyone granted birthday wishes. There were surprise deliveries of your favorite cake, fancy wine, and unexpected video compilations with high-quality editing to match. The pandemic was also when you didn’t have a choice (or were free) to cut down your wedding guest list to only 50 and keep two in your entourage instead of the original ten. I cannot recount the number of Zoom and Google Meet calls I have participated in. It’s a good thing I still kept my wired earphones.
For many of us, the restrictions and health protocols stress-tested our productivity, mental health, and relationships. It forced us to reflect, reconcile, release, and prioritize things about ourselves and our relationships. Being online was one thing that kept us connected, and it was what was essential and where we dedicated our time. It reminded us of our relationships’ value and what it meant to be present and attentive.
Being physically apart and with “nothing” to do, we realized the necessity of sociality, or ‘vitamin S’ as coined in a report on Psychology Today, reiterating how relationships are vital as relatedness precedes individual well-being. Social connection leads to well-being because it satisfies our psychological need for relatedness and allows us to experience a sense of belonging. Harvard Health Publishing cites how our social interactions likewise promote longevity, reduce stress, boost mood and promote a sense of flourishing. Just think of a friend, sibling, cousin, or anyone you can be yourself with, without judgment and explanation. (Who is your person? When was the last time you talked?)
We now get reminders of how long we have spent scrolling on an app and consider going offline (Are you still watching?).
It’s 2024 and we’re back to… regular programming, so to speak. We find ourselves wired to be online more than ever. We are all on social media but use it differently across generations. As for me, I have set boundaries for the social media accounts I manage because my memory of keeping passwords has reached its capacity. Yes, I don’t have TikTok, and that’s okay.
What I noticed about users in their sixties and above is that they use social media as a way to reunite with classmates, keep in touch with family abroad, play online crossword puzzles or the undying Candy Crush, and discover new ways of shopping. Users aged five to twelve have Robux as their currency and are native to online chats, filters, and trendy dance moves.
Regardless of age, we highly depend on social media for connectivity, emotional support, access to health resources, and self-expression. I’ve never seen my mom so busy and glued to her iPad, talking to her friends and siblings on Messenger and letting time pass by like a breeze. Conversely, I have never seen rage and tantrums triggered by an iPad’s battery down at 5 percent from my eleven-year-old nephew.
Because of technology, getting in touch has become convenient, although sometimes overlooked. Presence and participation are reduced to reactions, hearts, and emojis. We now get reminders of how long we have spent scrolling on an app and consider going offline (Are you still watching?). Constant notifications can be compulsive and lead to feelings of anxiety, overwhelm, and a distorted sense of reality. Being online can give us a sense of digital community and interaction. However, if unregulated, it can lead to digital isolation, forms of anxiety, decreased attention span and emotional quotient, and a detachment from social realities.
As time passes, we become highly selective of who we spend time with and how we spend it. We edit our relationships. Variables such as location and the stage that you are in life play a huge factor in shedding friendships.
In this day and age of remote work and Zoom meets, staying at home trumps getting stuck in traffic and high transportation costs, but living vicariously has its limits. You have to experience things firsthand and activate all the senses. Relearn to empathize, relate, have compassion, and be comfortable with real-world, face-to-face interaction–yes, including the awkward silence and small talk. All this makes up a memory of what happened in a day.
There might be an inverse relationship between digital convenience and age. Studies show that as we get older and reach chapter endings in life, we become “increasingly aware that time is in some sense running out. More social contacts feel superficial – trivial, compared to the ever-deepening ties of existing close relationships. Making the right choice becomes increasingly important, not wasting time on gradually diminishing future payoffs.”
In Taking Time Seriously: A Theory of Socioemotional Selectivity, author Laura Carstensen notes a theory called Socioemotional Selectivity, which argues that our perspective on time shapes the orientation of our lives and, therefore, the goals we pursue. When time is expansive and open-ended, as in the early stages of our lives, we orient ourselves to the future and pursue “knowledge-related goals.” We form wide and loose social networks, collecting dots and hoping to connect them in the future. But as the horizon nears, when the future is shorter than the past, our perspective changes. “The primary age difference in time orientation concerns not the past, but the present.”
To be social, one must learn to have a good understanding of oneself—interests, dislikes, desires, and what makes one happy.
No truer is the fact that time is perceived as malleable, and social goals change when time constraints are imposed. We become highly selective of who we spend time with and how we spend it. We edit our relationships. Variables such as location and the stage that you are in life play a huge factor in shedding friendships.
In my case, I see my friends once a quarter now compared to every Friday night back in 2010. I would send myself a calendar invite for a Saturday, 10 a.m. vs. (GMT-4) timezone FaceTime. Negotiations are involved before setting that date. And things don’t always go according to plan. But we show up and try again until we get to that winning moment: hopping on that call, finally, and ending it after three hours with happy tears streaming down your face, a big smile, and a warm fuzzy feeling. Social psychology teaches us that we are, by nature, social beings, and improving our relationships improves our mental health.
Dr. William Glasser, who created the Choice Theory, argues that we are born with five basic needs: love and belonging, power, freedom, fun, and survival. Glasser emphasizes that lasting psychological problems are usually caused by problems in our relationships (rather than signifying a biochemical abnormality in the brain), and distress can be remedied through repairing these relationships without recourse to psychiatric drugs.
Ultimately, an individual is responsible for one’s choices in life, so to be social, one must learn to have a good understanding of oneself—interests, dislikes, desires, and what makes one happy.
For many of us who’ve been consumed by our screens, isolated by remote work, and separated by immigration, it becomes all the more truly worthwhile to prioritize face-to-face interactions and rediscover the joy of shared experiences.
Another study reiterates how maintaining healthy connections also helps an individual become self-determined. Our well-being is impacted by the benefits of prosocial emotions, such as gratitude and compassion (to and from others, self), and prosocial behavior, such as kindness, altruism, fairness, and frugality. They transcend the individual, extend to others, and inspire them to do the same.
While digital platforms can facilitate connections, building authentic relationships requires genuine empathy, shared experiences, and a commitment to vulnerability. Social well-being is essential and is a shared responsibility. And these days, it is easy to mistake it for superficial forms of connection. Authentic ones are difficult to replicate. We cannot afford to take it for granted, especially now that we have the most convenient access to all means of connecting.
Because we go through life and can edit and prune, our social network will get smaller, but the ties to the friends we keep deepen. Despite the busy demands of everyday life, we try to make time to engage meaningfully, and be an active participant in our lives–not letting our relationships take the backseat. For many of us who’ve been consumed by our screens, isolated by remote work, and separated by immigration, it becomes all the more truly worthwhile to prioritize face-to-face interactions and rediscover the joy of shared experiences.
I cannot emphasize the importance of friendship because it is one of the things we can look forward to nurturing in life. It takes a lot of effort, awareness, and recall to prioritize being present and paying attention. In all the modern ways of staying connected and being in the moment, I find it best to use a phone’s primary function to go offline, make a call, and get closer to our near and dear.
Collage by Dannah Valdezco. Friends talking by © digitalskillet. Pink window by © Alice images via canva.com
