Before cell phones and social media, kids were known to write notes. In the case of that special crush, they might agonize over how to best communicate the proper level of adoration to the one they’d been spying in the lunchroom or on the playground. More often than not determining the title of this article was the best way forward, they would scribble the words on a piece of paper, fold it just right, and pass it to the love of their life through a trusted friend (who probably wished the note was for them).
The wrong answer was devastating.
Recently, a number of my friends, family, and colleagues have (again) sworn off social media. I can’t blame them. Typically their reasons for going dark involve too much drama or politics, unwanted opinions, or a lack of respect from loud-mouths with opinions contrary to theirs. I tend to ignore the nonsense and avoid being dragged down into it. Not that I don’t sometimes want to tee off on that ridiculousness, but I know where it will lead: a comment or reply, no matter how sensible, is unlikely to change anyone’s position or opinion on a matter. You can’t reason with the unreasonable. Still, the feelings of validation from ‘likes’ and encouraging comments is powerful.
This isn’t intended to be an essay on social media, but rather commentary on something linked to it that’s beyond my comprehension: social media ‘influencing’. I have yet to crack the code.
While I don’t understand what most ‘social media influencers’ are influencing or educating us on, I understand the draw; the response and number of followers is overwhelmingly linked to feelings of self-worth or self-efficacy. And apparently a lot of money.
Another code I haven’t cracked.
My intent with this venture has never been about money or followers. But one of my goals is to share insights, experiences, encourage, and provide of bit of entertainment to as many people as possible. I’ve linked a few social media accounts to this blog with increased visibility in mind. I appreciate every follower, and I’m particularly grateful for the small group of you who regularly like, comment, and share these articles. But I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t bother me not to have a larger following or get more feedback.
“Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach” is a George Bernard Shaw quote most commonly used in derogatory fashion today. Yet some of the greatest doers are also some of the greatest teachers. I have been blessed to serve with some incredible leaders (some not so much), and have even held a few positions of influence and leadership myself. I’m certainly not ‘all that’ and have had a few missteps along the way, but I try hard to translate that experience, good or bad, into meaningful content. It’s not Pulitzer Prize stuff here, but I like to think it’s not a complete waste of time, either.
So why hasn’t this thing taken off like million-plus follower types The Minimalists (who I researched on how to create a blog) or thought-leaders like Simon Sinek? Or my just-for-fun Rhythm Section’s Guide to Mixology, which got more interaction to its first post than most of my blog posts? And what about the recent trend of widely followed middle-age women whose provocative selfies routinely garner tens-of-thousands of likes and comments? Maybe I need to start posting more of those ‘artistic’ selfies I took when struggling with self-confidence at the prospect of turning 50.
Or maybe I just need better marketing.
Realistically, no matter how important or influential we might think we are (or were) in the moment, people are fickle and most are quickly forgotten. Before retiring from the military, I was a senior leader responsible for thousands of enlisted members and helped direct national-level executive leadership training. Not even three years retired, I am seldom contacted nor do I receive notice of significant ceremonies or events expected by protocol and courtesy.
That hurts.
Today, success is often measured in followers, likes, and comments, so I can’t help doubt myself at times and the relevancy or value of Beyond Strength. And if a picture of me half-naked or a video of an overly made-up teenager telling us her life is over because the espresso machine is out has more impact than real, heartfelt, relevant, and proven life, leadership, and fitness principles shared by someone who’s been there, I may be out of ideas.
I want what I do here to be relevant and useful. I want to make a difference. It would be nice to be liked.
But here’s the thing: as much as I yearn for affirmation, I need to remember my worth doesn’t come from what I do or how many likes I get. And yours doesn’t either.
Our worth comes from God. The God whose son said “If you love me, keep my commandments.” (John 14.15).
The same Son who died on a cross to save us because none of us do.
I want you to like me. But I understand if you don’t.
Sometimes I don’t even like me.
Get Strong. Be Strong. Stay Strong.