When it comes to my relationship with social media I would have to consider it “complicated”. Or at least it was. Feeling the tension of really wanting nothing to do with its pull, while also recognizing that to pursue a small business of any kind, a social media presence seems rather imperative. As Jordan once shared with me after hearing my cyclical thoughts on the matter, he matter of factly stated: Jennifer, then don’t use social media…. but don’t be surprised if you don’t book any photography clients.
Now granted, my photographing families is not solely based on having a plethora of Instagram followers, but his point being this. I can make the choice to simply remove this medium from my life and carry on accordingly, or I can make an effort to work through the tension and reap the benefits, as it were.
With that nudge I made a shift in my dealings with social media. I set time limits on my apps. I resolved to share intentionally with those that have already chosen to follow my accounts rather than working it to generate new followers. Surely there are flaws in this approach from a marketing perspective, but I have found the temptations of social media to be relatively void of influence, while being able to maintain a very minimal part of my day looking down at my phone. And all the while I can be present in a way that serves others more than it does myself.
Quite the backstory for a writing on TikTok, and it probably only serves to make you wonder why in the world I would ever care to join the TikTok party. Well I’ll tell you.
To be present.
I remember a conversation with my Dad just after having graduated college, pouring out to him my desire to perform in bars. This coming from the girl most often referred to as the “goody two shoes” in her elementary days, and whose year book was signed with peers who wrote of an appreciation for my convictions. Not exactly the messages that a graduating senior expects to find lined in their year book. Yet it speaks of my high school ambitions rather accurately, and is a foretelling of the conversation I speak of. One where I told my Dad I knew I could join the world of Christian music and most likely make something happen, but what I really wanted was to show up where God was least expected and bring the truth of Him there.
Every lyric line I have written, each melody belted, and all the 1 o’clock in the morning conversations were with this heartbeat. Truth where you least expected to find it. The performances have mostly come and gone, but my heartbeat has remained.
So I joined TikTok.
Not to garner more followers or pour creative energies into a new medium that will surely come and go like all the rest, or at least plateau until the next chump takes its place. But to simply come to the party and offer something unexpected for whoever might be willing to listen.
Although if ever bars were the place to go and pour out your troubles to a goodhearted bartender or bury your sorrows in a bounty of drink, TikTok is that place all the more. And you don’t need to be of drinking age. Rather, better if you are young. Very young. And prime for brokenness as soon as it will find you.
Day #1 on TikTok: A white, fully bearded, heavy make up laden gentleman impersonating the voice of a black woman who is dialoguing as a 911 dispatcher while hearing a man admit that he just stabbed his wife thirteen times.
Day #2 on TikTok: A high schooler who is lip syncing simply enough to her TikTok music of choice, outfitted in a comfortable sweatshirt, messy bun hair, and pale acne ridden face. Yet in the next moment she is transformed to an unidentifiable version of herself, where make up and lashes and hair product do more than cover her acne. She is hidden underneath layers that make you question if she is indeed one and the same as her former portrait.
Day #3 on TikTok: A young woman sitting casually in her car, a bandage around her head while showcasing a severe black eye, making her smile confusing. Until her joy only increases with the “after” moment, and glancing down you see the text #foreheadreduction. “I love it” are the joy filled words she leaves us with.
When I first considered writing of my first three days on TikTok, it was to relay the simple overwhelmment I felt as a mama to girls. To speak on pouring into them from the very beginning of their days. To remind them constantly of their worth. To being present for every conversation, from 2 to 12 to 20, maintaining that fragile ability to speak value and beauty and acceptance where the world otherwise gives very little. I felt this so vehemently that I just about scratched the writing I already had in the works so as to plea with you to not let your children slip through your fingers. They are in desperate need of you, where domestic violence is made humorous. Where layers of product and transformation are deemed followable. Where extreme physical transformation is made akin to seeking not merely external beauty, but internal joy.
Yet that is all the plea I will make, and all the plea I will remember when my five year old wants to sit and “be a part of the conversation” or when my two year old wants to dance.
The plea does not need to be so narrow focused. You do not need to parent girls to know the weight of intentionality. The weight of being present. Yes, surely there is more to it than showing up. But often times we miss the “more” because we are not even there.
So I will leave you with the words that navigated Lucrezio from the very beginning of its creation, and continues to find its way in every conversation:
If we can speak words that resound with familiarity, if we can make people feel alive and drive them to search for more than what they know, then the music has spoken and we have done what we were born to do.
EXPOSITION: You don’t need to be on TikTok, but surely TikTok, like many other places, can serve as a reminder that you are not needed to be broken. Brokenness will find you without the prompting. You need first to be present.
RISE: Before asking yourself where you are making yourself intentionally present, first ask where you needed someone to be present for you. And then show up there.
DENOUEMENT: If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. (Paul’s word to the church in Corinth)