Since last Wednesday all of my social media accounts have been disabled…my personal one, my writing account, Facebook, and maybe the one that feels the most important, The Giving Gifts.

At first, I felt the obvious things: frustration, confusion, the strange feeling of needing to create content and having no one to post it, opening the silly app like 50 million times. I kinda did a little mental hierarchy, I dont really care if my writing account gets deleted and I could be fine without my personal account and fb (although I would be kinda sad because it just holds so much history and a lot of birthday reminders), I would be reallllly sad if The Giving Gifts account gets taken down.

So much of this community here in Ensenada has grown because of Instagram. The cowork invites, the cleanup details, so many little conversations and check ins. It's how collaborations have been made and how a lot of the start of connections have been formed. The feed is documentation of stories and a growing community.

It just all feels so fragile.

And then under that is a fear I don’t always realize is there:
What if everything I’ve been working towards could disappear?
The community building, the research (that you isn’t shared on social media or even here often), the resources shared with partners around the world, the writing, the hours poured into something I hoped would ripple outwards… if it all disappeared tomorrow, would it matter?
Would anyone remember?
Would any of it have been worth it?

I don’t think it’s just ego (though clearly ego is in the mix). I think it’s because I want to believe the work I get to be part of, the love we give, the ways we show up for each other even in small, imperfect ways can ripple beyond us. I want to believe that connection doesn’t just disappear.

Why do I care so much for it to matter? Why do I want so desperately to be impactful? How and when and why did this become so much about me?

As those questions swirl, I keep coming back to what I believe deep down: it was never me who was impactful in the first place. Even as I continue to wrestle with what I believe about the church and faith, I still trust that God is orchestrating all things, and I am only a small part of that.

And then there’s this other thing I have to admit. I’ve said it a million times, I don’t think social media is all that important. I’ve told myself over and over it doesn’t really matter. Sitting here now, I can feel my sentimental little self getting sad about the possibility of losing it. Because even if it’s just an app, it’s been a vessel for connection, for memory, for so many sweet little moments.

I don’t know yet what will happen with the accounts. Maybe they’ll come back. Maybe we’ll have to start from scratch. I keep trying to remind myself: if connection is real, it doesn’t live just in an app. if impact is real, it isn’t mine to create or measure, it has always and will always belong to God.

It’s hard not to recognize and grieve the fragility of it all AND laugh because at the end of the day it really is still social media. Cheers to laughing and being sad and laughing at being sad.

If you’ve made it this far, I want to invite you to sit with this question with me:

What part of the work we doand the impact we hope to have feels truly ours to hold? And what part feels bigger than us, beyond what we can control or measure?

I’m still figuring this out and maybe there’s freedom in just noticing I never had that much control to begin with…IDK check in with me next week haha!