My Imaginary Friend

I was introduced to twitter by @phdbre in the fall of last year (2008). With the encouragement of @danupoyner, I decided to give it a try.

Including that first post, I've written five posts about twitter and have tried to figure out whether it's a good thing or just a nuisance and a waste of time.

The answers went from "this is stupid" to "this is fantastic" to "everyone's gotta try this" to "why am I losing sleep over this" to "people are doing good things on here" to "I know I can find a way to make this work" to "I am really bored with this" and so on...

I think I have finally figured it out (for now :-)). In the beginning, I felt pressured to always say things that are insightful, profound, or hilarious. I thought being noticed by others was the goal of twitter, and perhaps it is for some people. I found myself pressuring myself to post things that would be worth a second look by the readers. Getting people to reply back to me became the carrot that kept me searching endlessly for something brilliant or funny to say (and increasingly feeling incompetent.)

Just like anything else that I start with good intentions, I became disillusioned and bored with the whole thing (this, by the way, is a common trait among ENTPs). I hoped I could find a great use for twitter and make a difference in people's lives. But that was exactly the problem. Meeting the impossible standard I set for myself depended largely on other people responding to me. The more I looked for attention and approval, the less I could be myself. So I mostly stayed away and almost deleted my account but chose not to because of the few inspiring (and real) people whom I follow.

Then, a few days ago, I realized that perhaps the only thing I need to do, ever... is just be myself. If something profound gets said, let it be spontaneous. If I should be judged for saying something less than brilliant, less than uber friendly, less than hilarious, or downright stupid... that should not be my concern.

I began throwing my random thoughts onto the rectangular canvas at the top of my twitter page and observing how they land... no restrictions or fear of judgment. I no longer hover my mouse over the "update" button wondering if my words are worthy to post. Twitter finally feels like a friend. It can be my thinking-out-loud space. And I'm choosing to look at any replies merely as thoughts bouncing back at me. I just bounce them back with no expectations. This seems to be working (for now.) :-)

There's something strangely freeing about releasing all the personal attachment and feelings connected to something and letting go of expectations. The anxiety lifts, and I am not afraid to be me.

UPDATE: I WAS WRONG! HERE and HERE for the latest.