The era of social media addiction is upon us. If I don’t check in on my Facebook page at least four times a day I start to crave it like an addict craves his next fix. What began as a healthy social outlet has become an ongoing source of jealousy and discontent in many marriages. Maybe if my genitals looked more like an iPhone, I’d get more play!
Much to my husband’s dismay, there are times when I’m too tired to hang out with friends or battle him in a heated political debate. Honestly, most nights I’m too exhausted to wear pants–and not in a sexy way. On the other hand, social media doesn’t care if I’ve shaved my legs this month, brushed my hair or my teeth, or used my shirt sleeve for a toddler tissue. It is a solitary, gratifying, quick and easy act of pleasure. It’s conversational masturbation.
In fact, social media has a lot in common with the world’s oldest, socially taboo pass-time. Check out the following facts about social media. Now go back and substitute internet, social media, and online chats for masturbation, spanking the monkey, and pleasuring yourself. You’ll see what I mean.
The whole point of social media is to mimic real live interactions.
We even have little emoticon faces now to imply body language, facial expressions, and even hugs and kisses. They are like the sex dolls of online chatting.
Sending a Facebook message is quicker, easier, and less demanding than face-to-face conversations.
Have you ever had a thought that you couldn’t wait to tell someone, but you were all alone at the time? Thanks to social media, if you get the urge to connect with a random stranger you can tweet until your fingers go numb. No more shady truck stops and abandoned men’s rooms for you!
If you don’t like what you see online, you can turn it off at a moment’s notice.
If only men worked the same way…
When the conversation’s over, it’s perfectly acceptable to roll over and fall asleep.
The beauty of one-sided social media updates is that they’re all about your needs: you spew whatever thoughts have been building up in your mind throughout the day, and then forget about them.
I’m pretty sure my husband would play on the internet all day if he could.
I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve walked into the bathroom or my closet to find my husband huddled in the dark, pouring over his phone, with the guilty look of a teenager caught ogling the Victoria’s Secret catalog.
My mom would probably tell me that staring at a screen all day will make me go blind.
I’m pretty sure that as long as you’re not chatting online 24 hours a day, with your face pressed against the screen, you’ll probably be fine. You also will not grow hair on your palms from typing too much. Nice try, Mom.
Sometimes when I can’t sleep at night I just check Facebook quickly to relax me.
Shhh, don’t tell my husband.
If I try hard enough, I can convince myself that Ian Somerhalder is really receiving my tweets.
Honestly, it doesn’t really matter that Ian has no idea who I am. I can tag him in my tweet, close my eyes, and enjoy the fantasy that he, too, is touched by my thoughts. Plus, my avatar is hot.
I’m still getting used to the idea that my grandmother uses Facebook.
I’m choosing not to pursue this metaphor any further. Sorry Gramma.
When asked, people tend to downplay how often they are online each day.
No one wants to admit that they check Facebook at least six times a day, and that when they’re not checking it, they’re thinking about it. Everyone does it, but no one wants to talk about it.
Parents are always trying to keep their teenagers off the internet.
Parental controls, history searches, keyword blocking, and internet time-restrictions are all designed to keep kids from spending too much time online, and encourage them to pursue more wholesome activities. Unfortunately, kids are sneaky and there’s no fighting human nature.
While fun at first, online communication is ultimately less satisfying than a physical connection with another person.
There’s no substitute for a hug.
So put your phone away and enjoy being part of the world for a while. The rest can wait until you get home.
Mary Widdicks is a 31-year-old mom to two boys and expecting the birth of her first daughter in February, 2015. Being outnumbered in the family means that sometimes her voice gets drowned out by fart jokes and belching contests. She started Outmanned so she’d have a place to escape the testosterone and share her hilarious life with the rest of the world. Mary’s writing has been featured on parenting sites such as Mamapedia, Mamalode, In the Powder Room, Pregnant Chicken and Scary Mommy. She is a regular contributor on BLUNTmoms and has been honored as a 2014 Voice of the Year by BlogHer, and Badass Blogger of the Year for 2014 by The Indie Chicks. Follow her on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.