Every morning on Facebook, I’m on holiday – posing in warm hotel swimming pool wearing stupid goggles with my friend Caz. Or squashed into a booth in the Wetherspoons closest to my old office, clutching warming bottles of £14.95 prosecco – and my friends. Or in a club, ‘side-fringe’ (v noughties) slicked to my face and eyes slightly unfocused as I bear hug my friend, on her hen do.
Every morning in the real world, though, I’m finishing off a piece of toast as my toddler empties the Tupperware cupboard before I walk five steps to my desk to start work. Again.
It’s starting to feel like Facebook memories is trolling me – it’s a constant reminder of life before lockdown. To get through recent months, I feel like many of us have had to revel in the smallness of our world – we’ve just had to ‘lean in’ to the knowledge that yes we’re here, but we’re all here, everyone is doing this. In many ways lockdown has been the ultimate FOMO cure – if you discount Zoom calls and house parties – there’s no fear any more that everyone is out there doing more fun things that you. Because, for months, legally, they’ve not been able to.
But Facebook memories creates a FOMO-type feeling around my previous life. We all know that we’re missing out on holidays, nights out, meals with family or the creation of idiotic in jokes that only happen at 2am when no-one can remember quite how they came about. But this really shoves it in your face.
You can taste, smell and feel that moment viscerally. And it feels in huge contrast to what you’re living right now.
And there’s something about it being YOUR memories. It’s been easy to compartmentalise the knowledge that new experiences aren’t happening. Or that plans that never happened have been cancelled. But when you see a picture of yourself, in a moment (especially because most of them are old pictures, not as Instagrammably posed as recent years), you can taste, smell and feel that moment viscerally. And it feels in huge contrast to what you’re living right now.
There’s also that matter of it always being a highlights reel. ‘They just make me feel nostalgic,’ says Becky. ‘But then that’s no different to normal really – they always make you think of the good times gone by, because you rarely post about the shit stuff!’
But it’s not all negativity, Kerry tells me: ‘To be honest seeing my Facebook memories makes me feel EXHAUSTED, like how did I ever manage to socialise that much? I think there was a 10 year period that I was out most nights. I feel as if lockdown has marked the end of that cycle of maintaining so many social events and catching up with everyone with no end in sight. I think we will all be more careful about what we do and who we see from now on because more thought will have to go into it. That’s quite a sad thought but also it’s a slight relief in a way because I could never say no to anything.’
‘My husband and I have become addicted to watching A Place In The Sun,’ says Kate. ‘It takes us back to the best holidays with friends – searching for villas. Seeing us all posing on Facebook by the pool reminds us of how much we appreciate holidays in the sun. We won’t take it for granted again.’
It’s a good point– after I’ve quite bitching and moaning (in the full knowledge of how lucky I am) there is a wave of appreciation. An understanding that everything I experienced in the past, and that I’d just taken for granted, was amazing. While lockdown has given many of us time to pause and take stock, perhaps Facebook memories will help many of us pledge a renewed promise not to take those experiences for granted again.