Journal

My Social Media Story – How Telling My Story Helped Me Find Support

This is a part of a special series looking at how social media has impacted the lives of its users. This week, the story comes from Karen Wilson.

Every time I hear someone talk about how scary they think being online is, I can?t help but think how different my life would be if I wasn?t so connected online.

From meeting my husband (and moving to Canada), to meeting my former business partner, to eventually connecting with a group of women who have become dear friends ? my online connections are essential to me.

Questions Without Answers

When my son, Brandon, was about 3? his caregiver suggested that we have him?evaluated?for language delays. So we did.

Several months later, the caregiver brought up?motor skills delays. A week later I was meeting with Brandon’s doctor who referred us for a psycho-educational assessment.

The combination of language and motor delays pointed to some sort of developmental disorder, most likely on the autism spectrum, given a strong family history.

From August 2011 until June 2012, I said nothing about this online. I was uncomfortable with the idea of sharing information about my son that might be considered an invasion of his privacy.

Waiting is Stressful

As two, then three, then five months passed with no appointment date, my stress and frustration levels maxed out.

There might have been panicked phone calls to a few different doctors? offices.

Around the same time, I was scheduled to attend Podcasters Across Borders (PAB). The opening keynote was to be Julien Smith, but something came up and he had to cancel at the last minute.

Jason Goldsmith was his meant-to-be (for me), replacement. Jason’s story about communicating with his autistic son gave me hope and the experience inspired me to share.

The week after I attended PAB, I finally wrote about it. I told my story – not my son’s, not my husband’s. I can’t speak for anyone but myself.

It was only part of the story, but it was enough.

Finding Support and Community

I was overwhelmed with the comments, private messages, and emails of support. The words were simple:

“I hear you. I understand. I’ve been through this and it’s so hard.”

Those words made all the difference in the world.

The email that meant the most came from a Twitter acquaintance of mine named Heather.

She sent me an email with every number she has – work, cell, home – and she also encouraged me to come for a play date.

Our boys are just a few months apart in age. We bonded under a cool tree in her back yard while our kids played.

Her little girl – almost two at the time – had been identified as autistic at 20 months and Heather was in full mama bear mode, doing everything she could to get her daughter therapies she needed.

Her action motivated me.

Months later, Heather invited me to go to Starbucks one Saturday night and meet other moms with kids on the spectrum.

Three years later, our little group of four that met sporadically in the beginning has grown to a monthly get-together of 6-10 women.

In between coffee dates, we stay in touch in a private Facebook group ? some even joined Facebook just to participate.

Same Journey, Different Paths

Our lives are very different. Our kids are very different. The challenges we face and needs each of us have are all very different.

But we come together to support each other with no judgment, no expectations – only acceptance. The group reflects what we want for our children, even if that wasn’t the overt purpose.

It?s entirely possible that I would have crossed paths with these ladies and benefitted from their friendship and knowledge if I had never written that blog post three years ago.

However, in opening up and speaking out about our experience, I found a community to connect with, learn from, and grow with right when I needed it most.

Each and every one of these women are essential to my life and I am so grateful to know them.

About the author: Karen Wilson is a mom to Brandon ? the funniest 7-year-old in the world (true story). She shares her life and thoughts at Karen?s Chronicles.

She?s also a freelance writer/communicator who likes to share her thoughts on writing and content marketing with the world.

A Dead Child on a Beach is Fine, But the Word Fuck Offends You?

We’ve all seen the tragic and horrific image of little Aylan Kurdi, washed up and face down on a Turkish beach after trying to escape the horrors of Syria.

We’ve seen (finally) the mainstream media really talking about the issues that are facing Syrians as they put their own lives, and that of their families, at risk, only to find that risk takes their lives as surely as the bombs and bullets in Syria would should they remain there.

And we’ve seen the world finally start to get its shit together and realize what’s been going on, now that they’ve been forced to watch by the image of that poor little boy, who could be mistaken for simply sleeping if you replaced the beach with a bed.

Sadly, we’ve also seen the assholes and the self-serving come out of the woodwork, as “people” show their true colours when it comes to their place in the world, and how we treat our sisters and brothers regardless of race, faith and status.

I Offend You? Your Ignorance Offends Me

In the days following the release of the picture of Aylan to the world, there were many discussions across all the social networks, as people tried to make sense of what they’d just seen.

On Facebook, a friend of mine shared one of the many news stories about the tragedy, and asked what it will take for the world to end this madness, and actually live peacefully together.

I replied with my usual brass and unfiltered take when horrible shit like this happens.

Sadly, the world can never change when we put the doctrines of religion and hate?above the rights of people to expect a normal life. Despite our outrage, nothing changes and hatred wins?- the world is completely fucked.

An hour or so later, one of my friend’s friends came online, and harangued me for using such unnecessary language. It simply showed ignorance of the English language, and I couldn’t be taken seriously because of it.

Well fucka-doody-doo, mister, and excuse me!

So I asked this guy if my language offended him more than a three year old boy lying lifeless on a beach for the whole world to see. His response:

God works in mysterious ways, and it’s not for us to question or for you to lessen that by vulgarity.

At that point I gave up, because clearly it was pointless trying to reason with someone that couldn’t see the craziness in their statement or point of view.

[clickToTweet tweet=”Why do we think the word fuck is offensive, but reason away a dead child on a beach? #morals” quote=”Why do we think the word fuck is offensive, but reason away a dead child on a beach? #morals”]

Now, don’t get me wrong – while I’m not religious myself, and while I have many issues with how religion of all kinds enforces certain behaviour and beliefs, I also respect people that are religious to practice their faith, and the actions that come through that.

I just can’t believe any religion (or person, to ensure this doesn’t become a post about religious ambiguity) would find a three year old boy lying dead on a beach any fucking kind of acceptable picture.

Because if you do, for whatever reason, then your whole mindset is fucked.

The World is Becoming a Stupid and Dangerous Place

But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that this could be the case.

After all, you only need to take a look through your Facebook feed, as well as news and media outlets and the comments that come after any kind of serious opinion piece, to see that the world is getting crazier by the day.

In Costa Rica, tourists placed their kids on top of turtles for picture opportunities. On top of that, they stood in front of the turtles as they tried to make their way onto the beach. Apart from showing how stupid people are, its impact is much deeper, as these turtles were trying to lay eggs, but returned to the water without doing so. Nature 0 – Human Idiocy 1.

Over on Facebook, “friends” of friends share?a picture of a burning cross, and claim that President Obama is the anti-Christ and should be “removed”.

In Texas, a teenage Muslim boy is arrested and handcuffed because his dumb school (and the fear around someone that’s just a little “different”) think his science project – a homemade clock – is a bomb.

These are just a few examples of literally thousands (millions?) that highlight how ignorance and self-preservation is taking over the world.

If it’s not in your backyard, it’s not visible, right?

Except is it visible, every single day – we just choose to ignore it.

Not only that, but we choose to ignore the ignorance of others around us when it rears its head, because no-one likes to rock the boat where friendship is concerned, right?

If that’s the case, ask yourself this – at what point do we stand up and say enough is enough, and to hell with the fallout from those we feel we currently refrain from challenging?

Because if we truly think that using the F-word is more offensive than a poor, innocent little boy lying face down on a beach hundreds of miles away from home, then I’m sorry, but we’re more fucked up than we think.

And that is truly offensive.

You Can Still Be Respectful and Not Give a Crap

When I was much younger ? say, around 8-9 years old ? I used to get in trouble with my school teachers, and other adults in positions of authority, regularly.

Pretty much not a day would go by without my mother receiving some troublesome news about me.

I guess, looking back, I simply had an aversion to authority.

And while that continued until my early teens, when I learned what it meant to really show respect and understand conflict with authority was primarily in my mind, I also learned something at that young age that must have made an impression (even subconsciously) from my granddad.

Wisdom Has No Age Limits

I always loved my granddad. He was the safety net I?d cling to when everyone else seemed down on me.

He was the one that would let me watch TV just that little bit later.

He was the one who would let me read my comic under the bed with the flashlight, when everyone else would confiscate the flashlight.

In short, he was the one that would break the rules and let me be who I wanted to be. Except, not really.

Instead of letting me be an out of control tearaway, looking back he was actually guiding me to be a better person because of the trust I had in him.

When he spoke, I?d agree and nod ? even if I didn?t like it. And ? usually ? do as he said.

Whether or not my mother was in cahoots with him in this endeavour, I?ll never know. Perhaps, perhaps not. Either way, he made me stop and think of the things my mother was trying to teach me.

So, when I was having my brush with people in authority, my granddad pulled me aside, and said the following:

You might think grown-ups are bad, and stopping you from having fun. And, sometimes, they will. But it?s only because they love you. Now ? you can choose which ones to listen to. And, I know ?not everyone is worth listening to. So here?s a trick ? listen to the people who love you, every time. Your mum. Your sister. Me. Your grandma. Listen to your friends, but only the ones who don?t make you feel bad about yourself. And listen to your teachers who make you smile when you?ve done something. These people are all just trying to help you enjoy life. And that?s something not everyone will do.

Now, I know I?ve paraphrased some of his words. After all, this was almost 40 years ago (holy crap, I?m getting old!!). But the gist of the message is definitely there.

And it?s one I use today in pretty much everything I do, and you should too. Here?s why.

Living Life The Way It?s Meant to Be Lived

In a recent edition of TIME, there was a fantastic memorial article by David Von Drehle, about a gentleman named Charlie White.

David and Charlie were neighbours, and David?s piece wrote about the lessons Charlie instilled from a life well lived.

Charlie was 109 when he passed.

The article recounts passages of time from the turn of last century, and is a fascinating and warm look into a period of time most of us will never have known. Yet it?s also a reminder of how to live a life well lived.

Charlie?s ?secret? to a happy life was the realization that you have to separate the things you can?t control from the things you can.

This was a lesson he imparted to one of his daughters when she was having issues with someone that was frustrating her.

The fact Charlie lived such a long and happy life has to have some part in this mindset. It?s the same mindset my granddad had, and is ? essentially ? the one I try to live to these days.

After all, let?s face it ? how important are the words of others who actually have no real impact over who we are and what we stand for?

Enough With the Egg Shells

A great example of this can be found in this post from 2014, by?Marc Ensign, called ?The Pussification of the Internet?.

In it, Marc shares how the web has become this place where we?re too scared to have an opinion, because we?ll be jumped on by others, or called to task, etc.

Because of this, the web is in danger of becoming a sanitized version of what it should be ? open, challenging, questioning and, most of all, bare bones honest. It?s a great ? if not quite safe for work read ? and well worth your time.

Because it?s true.

In August 2104, the Pew Research Internet Project released a report that made for some enlightening ? and a little bit scary/sad ? reading.

Entitled ?Social Media and the Spiral of Silence?, it shared the answers of just over 1,800 adults and their thoughts on the impact of the Edward Snowden / NSA fallout in the US and beyond, and how that affected the way these adults conversed online.

There are many interesting takeaways from the report, but two in particular stood out.

In both personal settings and online settings, people were more willing to share their views if they thought their audience agreed with them. For instance, at work, those who felt their coworkers agreed with their opinion were about three times more likely to say they would join a workplace conversation about the Snowden-NSA situation.

Previous ?spiral of silence? findings as to people?s willingness to speak up in various settings also apply to social media users. Those who use Facebook were more willing to share their views if they thought their followers agreed with them. If a person felt that people in their Facebook network agreed with their opinion about the Snowden-NSA issue, they were about twice as likely to join a discussion on Facebook about this issue.

Now while these two points refer to unease on how the US government is monitoring the conversations of its citizens, it also highlights the growing issue of just going with the flow as opposed to taking a stand.

It?s a walking-on-egg-shells mentality that both limits our growth and inhibits our learning. If we were all meant to have the same point of view,?we may as well quit now because there would be no need for us to be.

That?s not to say we ignore everyone else ? far from it. But we do need to start standing up for ourselves and our opinions more, and not just be part of the herd.

Like my granddad said himself, think of who you want to listen to.

Think of who you want to take advice from.

Think of who actually matters, and whose opinion and feelings you wouldn?t want to hurt.

And be respectful of those you disagree with.

For everything else ? who gives a crap?

My Social Media Story – A Story of Loss or Why Facebook Doesn’t Suck

This is a part of a special series looking at how social media has impacted the lives of its users. This week, the story comes from Amy Vernon.

I?ve lived in a lot of different places, and every time I moved, I vowed that I?d stay in touch with people better than I did the last time.

Easier said than done.

After a few letters or phone calls, friendships gradually faded away, though the advent of email meant we could share stupid jokes that made the rounds until you saw every joke in the history of mankind at least a half-dozen times, and began to regret ever signing onto email in the first place.

That?s besides the point, though. Fact is, until Facebook, there really wasn?t any way to really catch up with all those people who?d disappeared over the years.

I?ve learned of one elementary school friend who responded heroically when a maniac shot up her office. Of college classmates who?ve risen to fame in Hollywood. Of friends who succumbed to the siren call of drugs and are still struggling to pick up the pieces.

And then there?s Christine.

From the Outside In

My senior year of high school, I ran with a group of punks. Real punks ? at least, as real as they could be in the suburbs.

We lived in middle-class homes but listened to the Sex Pistols. Spiked hair, mohawks, ripped jeans, safety pins. And those weren?t retro or cool yet.

We wore black on the outside because black was how we felt on the inside (yes, we listened to The Smiths, too).

I didn?t know Christine, then.

[clickToTweet tweet=”Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity. – Khalil Gibran” quote=”Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity. – Khalil Gibran”]

She was the older sister of Justin, my dear friend and the heart of our group. He was magnetic north.

We gathered at his house after school more often than not. Most of our funny group stories somehow revolved around him.

One day, he and a couple other friends were teasing me and I got pissed off and stormed away. Next thing I knew, Justin was on his knees, asking my forgiveness.

Sincerely.

Christine was out of the house already. She was a few years older than Justin. I don?t think I ever met her until his funeral.

You see, on Aug. 8, 1987, Justin took his own life in the early morning hours. Broke the locks on the garage doors, turned the car on and died. His was a closed casket.

It was one of the seminal moments of my life and changed me forever.

Loss and Gain

The group of friends who surrounded Justin stayed tight for some time.

The following summer, when I came back to Long Island to work at a weekly newspaper, we had parties and hung out many weekends.

Some were still in school, some were home from college, some were about to head to college for the first time.

During my sophomore year, my parents moved from New York to California. As happens in life, I gradually lost touch with that group of friends.

I kept in touch with Justin?s mom for several years, but after I moved from Florida to Arizona and then she moved and her phone number changed, even that faded away.

Still, every Aug. 8, I awoke with a pit in my stomach, which wouldn?t go away until I remembered why.

You?d think after a decade or so, I might remember why I felt so bad around that date every year, but something in my brain switched off ? almost as if it was trying to protect myself, but failed because now I felt crappy and couldn?t figure out why.

When Facebook came into the picture, I started getting friend requests from people I knew growing up on Long Island, at the Connecticut summer camp where I was a CIT, in college, in Florida, in Kentucky, in Arizona ? all the places I?d lived over the years.

One such request was from John, my closest friend in that high school cabal, and Justin?s best friend.

It was so great to be in touch with him again; he posted photos of us from high school, some with Justin and some without ? all reminding me of the joy and the pain.

We messaged privately sometimes, to catch up on people without discussing them publicly.

He said he was in touch with Christine, Justin?s sister. Would I want to connect with her?

Duh. Of course.

I reached out tentatively, saying I didn?t know if she remembered me. I hadn?t realized how connected she was to Justin?s life back then.

She knew damn well who I was and was happy I?d reached out.

Strength Through Adversity

We chatted on Facebook, discovered we had a lot of likes and dislikes in common and though we?d never spoken since Justin?s funeral, began building a friendship that sprang from a mutual loss but was built on mutual respect and common interests.

John died suddenly, unexpectedly, about a year later.

We consoled each other. I sent Justin?s mom a prayer card from John?s funeral.

We mourned again, this time as adults grateful for the time we?d been back in touch with John rather grieving the years we knew we?d never have with Justin.

It wasn?t easier, per se, but we were older and we understood grief better.

[clickToTweet tweet=”A natural death at 40 is different than a suicide at 16. Not better, just different. ” quote=”A natural death at 40 is different than a suicide at 16. Not better, just different. “]

And a natural death, even unexpected and sudden at 40, is different than a suicide at 16.

Not better, just different.

At 40, we?ve had more experience with death and know that, in time, the pain can subside and become tolerable.

Still, Christine and I had never talked on the phone. We emailed back and forth and were so grateful for John having put us in touch with one another, because it brought some meaning to his loss, in a sense.

I know how much his death rocked his family ? his mother, his sister, his wife, his daughter ? but for me, I think of John and I quietly thank him for bringing Christine back into my life.

A couple years back, on Aug. 8, I posted something about Justin. Christine responded almost immediately.

I realized she didn?t really know how much Justin?s friendship and death had meant to me. The next day, I breathed deeply, picked up the phone and called.

For about an hour, we talked. We cried.

I mean, we SOBBED.

We laughed. I finally had the chance to tell her how amazing her brother was and how his death had changed me for the better, despite the searing pain I still felt.

The next year, as the anniversary came up ? the 25th anniversary ? my brain did what it does, and I forgot. I had thought about it a couple weeks earlier, determined not to forget for once.

And yet, I did.

Then, sitting at my computer somewhere around midday, I remembered. I looked at my Facebook mail and saw a message from Christine.

Despite the fact that reading her message made me cry, I suddenly didn?t feel so alone.

The last couple of years, we?ve let the day go by quietly. But a couple days later, one of us will ping the other, letting both of us know that we remember.

And that we?re thinking of each other.

About the author: Amy Vernon does stuff on the Internet. She spent 20 years as an ink-stained wretch, figuring out what people wanted to read in their newspaper.

Now?she spends her days figuring out what people want to read online.?You can read more from Amy at AmyVernon.net, and connect on Twitter @AmyVernon.

Building Loyalty is Simple, So How Come We Make It So Hard to Do?

Loyalty. A funny concept. One that can mean so many different things to different people at different times.

Sports teams have loyalty from their fans. Well, the true ones do. Think Manchester City as opposed to Manchester United, where the latter?s ?fans? are more interested in prawn sandwiches than a good soccer team.

Indie bands have loyalty from their fans. Until they sign that big record deal, that is, then they become sell-outs.

Humans have loyalty from their dogs. But then you would be pretty loyal as long as you had someone cleaning up your shit.

So, yeah, loyalty ? a funny concept.

And yet it?s something that?s so important to so many people, they spend their lifetime(s) trying to work out how they can build loyalty around what they do.

After all, build loyalty, you build bigger success, right?

More readers; more subscribers; referrals; business; money. Get that gold rush and you don?t have to worry about marketing whatever it is you’re trying to build.

So, yeah ? loyalty is something pretty much everyone wants to achieve in some form or another.

And not just loyalty, but fierce loyalty. Because if you grab that piece of gold, the world is truly your oyster.

That shit starts revolutions.

And so companies spend thousands (millions?) on trying to create loyalty programs.

Bloggers spend thousands of words trying to say the things they think their readers want to hear to become loyal.

Social media ?gurus? spend all day on Twitter when they should be doing real work, just to try and get that extra loyal follower to buy into their crud.

And it?s all a waste of time. Seriously.

Because you don?t need to spend thousands, if not millions, of dollars trying to build loyalty.

[clickToTweet tweet=”Think like the person whose loyalty you want and ask what really matters to them. #pureblogging” quote=”Think like the person whose loyalty you want and ask what really matters to them. #pureblogging”]

You don?t need to be that desperate typist.

You don?t need to be that good-for-nothing-except-quotes-for-Mashable social media douche whose only loyalty comes from those laughing at him religiously.

If you want loyalty ? fierce loyalty ? it?s easy: be fiercely loyal first.

Show people you care. Show people you mean what you say.

Every time.

Show people they can trust you. Show people you deserve that trust. Show people you?re not a dick who simply panders to those stroking your ego (or your dick). Show people every one of them is equal.

And it?s not fucking hard to do this.

– If you?re a blogger, encourage dissention of your views and don?t let fanboys be your voice.

– If you?re a business, embrace your critics as much as your fans (if not more so).

– If you?re a manager, let everyone speak and not just Tommy Kiss Ass.

In fact, no matter what you do, in what discipline and in what medium, it?s really not hard at all to build loyalty.

Think like the person you want to become loyal to you and ask what really matters to them.

Get that simple thing right and you?ll have loyalty so fierce you?ll wonder why you were making it so difficult to achieve to begin with…