I didn't have a Facebook account until my senior year in college

Most people would be surprised every time I tell them I wasn't allowed to have a Facebook account until I turned 18. And even after I turned 18, I wasn't allowed to post anytime I wanted. Back then, Facebook shows your friends what post you liked or commented in, so my dad would always know what I've been up to online if he checked! I didn't understand at the time but my dad told me Facebook was bad for me. Of course I didn't believe him then. If I hadn't told him our professor was posting our assignments on our Facebook group, he wouldn't even have allowed me to open an account! It was 2013 and everyone I know was pretty much on the platform.

I resented him for a while then. But looking back, I realized I probably wouldn't have started this blog had I been on Facebook when everyone else was there. I started my [first] YouTube channel too, having nothing else to do with the internet, our DSLR camera, and our family laptop. 

It's not that I'm ungrateful for the convenience of social media today, but recently I've been struggling with focus and creativity. I couldn't even count how many times I've found myself scrolling through Facebook, Twitter, and TikTok — hopping from one app to another — until I realize I still have tons of work to do. And despite the dopamine they say you get from the apps, I always feel groggy as soon as I look up from my screen.

But do I ever stop?

You're right.

I don't.

So last night I uninstalled TikTok — the number one culprit. It's crazy how I learn so much and laugh so much from 15-second videos, but my attention span was plummeting. Suddenly, I couldn't even work without stopping every 5 minutes to check on my phone. I couldn't even watch a YouTube video without getting distracted by the recommended videos at the sidebar.

I watched a video the other day on focus and the guy (see, I don't even remember who he was) explained that the problem today isn't too much information, but information management. Again, I mostly forgot what he said because I might have clicked out 3 minutes into the video, but I remember him recommending we take a step back from these sites or platforms that feed us too much information. It was not a new suggestion, but it was a reminder that I need to create more space in my head for creativity and peace. That I need to be more intentional about it.

Removing an app like TikTok from my phone doesn't seem like much, but many who've tried say it worked wonders for their productivity and work patterns. Perhaps next week I'd have the strength to remove another app until I can do all the things I used to do when my daily life didn't revolve around my phone. Sometimes it's better to peel off an old band-aid slowly. 

Until then, however, I'd have to deal with this quiet urge to reinstall the app back.

The Long-Overdue Chapter: Chapter 26

I've been thinking about creating a new website — like a separate website for my creative pursuits. Sure, I have a business website (where I carry my husband's surname) which I haven't officially shared to the public yet, but I'm not sure if I can indulge in my attempts at creative writing without getting a separate writer's website. If that's the case, I might use my maiden name. Will that even make sense?

It's been almost 2 years since my last entry and that didn't even count as a proper blog post.

So now I'm here, trying to pry open a dusty box full of memories of the old me.

Of course I'm still me. You know.  Just married — and with a personality I think I can finally understand. 26 years on earth and I feel like I'm starting to know myself more. Kevin (my husband) and I just moved into our own home 2 months ago (a year after our wedding) and without anyone to tell us what to do, and when and how to do things, I finally see who I am as a person and what I think I'm here for, I guess.

Of course I'm bound to change a little bit more once Kevin and I have kids, but while we're in this phase — exploring our individualities, together — we're seeing ourselves in a different light. And that, I think, is refreshing. I didn't know that I actually like the colors yellow and orange. That I could actually love milk. That I enjoy cooking, or that I dislike a noisy home. It's like getting to know myself for the first time.

When my dad passed away last July, I became even more me — more sober — realizing I was like my father after all. Like someone grabbing me by the shoulders, I felt that jolt of reality and I saw myself absorbing everything we used to do together. I enter my home office every day, looking at all my stuff — the library, camera station, and the wide desk like he used to have — and see bits and pieces of him and my childhood. Sometimes it makes me smile, sometimes it makes me cry.

Now, I'm even more sure of what I want to do in the next 50 years. It still sounds a little crazy but I draw comfort from the thought that my dad would have been excited for me.

Maybe this is what they mean by becoming an adult. Being more confident about yourself. But since I still feel like I'm 19, I can never tell for sure. Am I an adult because of the things that I do, or because of how I feel about things?

26 years on earth and I'm just seeing myself growing.

I still have so many things to learn but I've never been so excited in my life.

To my dad,

I'll try to do the things I said I'd do.

For you.

For us.