As the sun sets on another summer vacation, here I am, pondering the great existential questions of our time. You know, the really important stuff, like: “Should I post this sunset pic, or will people think I’m basic?” “Should I like this post about climate change, or will that make me look too political?” “Should I retweet this cat video, or will that ruin my carefully curated intellectual image?” 

These are the conundrums that define our hyperconnected age of online exhibitionism — where everyone is a superstar in their own daydream. A magical realm where your friend’s breakfast is more photogenic than a Michelin-starred chef’s masterpiece and your college roommate’s dog is clearly the next Lassie. This is the land of filters, folks, where reality is optional and FOMO is the global pastime.

But let’s be real for a hot second. Social media is like that one mirror in a funhouse that makes everyone feel like they’re ready for the red carpet, even if they’re just walking to the mailbox in their pajamas. It’s a place where we can shout into the void, collect virtual pats on the back and stay informed — or spectacularly misinformed, depending on which rabbit hole we tumble down, because nothing says “reliable news source” like a meme shared by your cousin’s neighbor’s dog’s Instagram account.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love a good meme as much as the next person and there’s something curiously enjoyable about glimpsing into other people’s worlds, one filtered image at a time. But it seems to me that some people are putting more thought into curating their social media presence than their actual lives. They’re stressing more about their Instagram aesthetic than their real-world accomplishments. It’s like they’re humming any and every tune while missing out on actually conducting and living in the symphony.

And let’s talk about the elephant in the room — or should I say, the blue checkmark in the profile. There’s this delusional sense of importance that comes with a hefty follower count. News flash: unless you were already a big deal to begin with, those likes and followers don’t actually make you important. They just make you — well, liked by strangers on the internet. Congrats on your digital entourage, I guess.

But here’s the kicker: real impact doesn’t happen in the realm of retweets and heart emojis. It happens out there in the wild, where your screen time doesn’t really count. It’s in the conversations you have face-to-face, the hands you shake — or elbow-bump, depending on the current pandemic protocol — and the actual, tangible differences you make in people’s lives. Life happens when we step away from the screens and engage with the world in a way that’s genuine and lasting. And trust me, in real life, no one’s expecting you to retweet their jokes or hit the “like” button when they tell a story — though a good laugh and a nod of appreciation never hurt!

So, what’s the takeaway here? Should we all dramatically delete our accounts, toss our smartphones into the nearest body of water and embrace life as digital hermits? Of course not — after all, how else would we keep tabs on what our high school arch-rival had for lunch or find out which obscure holiday today’s Google Doodle is celebrating? No, the solution isn’t to retreat from the online world but to rethink how we engage with it as we navigate a world increasingly lived through screens.

Social media was designed to be a tool for connection, not a substitute for it. Yet somewhere along the way, it became a stage where we perform our lives rather than live them. We’ve all seen it — the perfectly color-balanced vacation photo, the meticulously crafted tweet, the Instagram-worthy avocado toast. It’s easy to get caught up in the performance, to curate a persona that’s more polished and perfect than reality ever could be. But here’s the thing: while a well-timed post can earn you a few fleeting moments of internet fame, it will never replace the deep, lasting fulfillment that comes from real-world connections and accomplishments.

Likes and retweets are fun, sure. They give us that little dopamine hit, a momentary rush of validation. But they should never be mistaken for the things that truly matter — like the impact we have on the lives of those around us, the relationships we nurture and the memories we create offline. In the grand scheme of things, the number of followers you have is far less important than the number of people who would be there for you in a crisis.

Let’s start using social media the way it was intended: to inform, to share and to genuinely connect. Post that sunset pic if it makes your heart skip a beat, share that achievement because you’re genuinely proud of it, not because you’re chasing likes. But remember, your worth isn’t measured by an algorithm and your life shouldn’t be reduced to a highlight reel.

Instead of curating an illusion of perfection, let’s strive to make our online presence a true reflection of our best selves — flaws, quirks and all. Use social media to enhance your life, not escape from it. Remember, the most important influencer in your life should be you, not some distant avatar of yourself that exists only in pixels and code.

So, go forth and post responsibly — or don’t. The choice is yours and that’s the beauty of it. Whether you choose to share or not, live your life in a way that would make you proud, even if there’s no one around to double-tap it. Because in the end, the most meaningful experiences are the ones that happen in real time, not just on your timeline.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to decide whether or not to post this piece on social media. After all, what’s the point of having deep thoughts if you don’t share them with the world? Just kidding — kind of.

SHAUKAT AHMED graduated from Yale University in 1987. He can be reached at sar@aya.yale.edu.