It felt like the height of luxury, eating while soaking.
In the first case, the year was 2001, and there was no such thing asInstagram.
Free cabana stocked with products I definitely did not take home!for four days.
Getty / anaimd
My recent trip to Hawaii wasnt my first time there.
A few years ago, in Kauai on our honeymoon, my husband and I tried surfing.
He took a photo of me standing up on the board in myrashguard, exhilarated.
Afterward, in the parking lot, I posted the photo to Instagram.
By attempting to package the magic for my Instagram followers, I killed it.
Its hard to separate what actually sounds fun to me from what seems fun to other people.
Would I still lie with my toes in the sand if I couldnt post an obligatory photo of them?
I wanted to know what it would feel like to do something for the gram without ‘gramming it.
So on this trip I promisedmyself and the editor of this storyI wouldnt post anything onsocial media.
I sent one more photo of us dressed up for dinner on our last night.
I did Instagram-stalk a fellow diner who turned out to be a quasi-celebrity pastor.
But otherwise, I stayed off social media entirely.
Going ham!!!
would be a good caption, I thought.
The cocktail was strong, and I couldnt finish it.
Honestly, not posting it felt more like a relief than a missed opportunity.
I couldve curated the hike for Instagram in a way that made Mother Nature seem #flawless.
Without it, I noticed how springy the grass felt underfoot.
To feel blessed minus the hashtag is a blessed feeling indeed.
It freed me up to focus on the activity and not what Id have to show for it.
Soon Ill be returning to Hawaii, this time with my family.
Im torn about whether to stay off social media again.
And, if youre relatively self-aware, its hard not to feel fake.
Curation connotes museum or boutique, and I dont want to run either.
Even if your personal brand is IDGAF, its still a brand.
I actually do give a fuck.
Many fucks, in fact.
I think thats partly why we tell stories (and post Stories): to connect.
Maybe its affirming, or toxic, or something in between, depending on your inherent sense of self-worth.
I wish I felt either love or hate about it, not both.
As we waded in, we watched a man photograph a woman on a stand-up paddleboard.
She stood stiffly, oar and grin locked in place, looking like an Athleta ad.
Did I look happy?
Like someone who doesnt care what I look like?
There are no pics, but it definitely happened.
