Growing up in the digital generation, most of my life has been memorialized on social media. My mom (like most women in their mid 40s) is an avid Facebook user who has been posting on the platform since 2007. As a result, my life is documented via pictures and stories on her profile. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree either, as I love using Instagram as a digital diary, Letterboxd to critique films, and YouTube to privately post an abundance of videos and montages to look back on. It’s rare to find someone completely disconnected from social media. As Karl Spracklen notes in “Identity-Making and Social Media,” the internet has become a space where people form community and find a sense of belonging. Social media, to me, is a time capsule, scrapbook, and diary all in one.

On the other hand, I think social media fuels self-obsession, or, at the very least, self-facination. I know I am guilty of this. I will perfectly curate an Instagram story, fitted with the perfect 10-second sample of my newest song obsession, and once I post it, I will rewatch that story a handful of times. It’s not like I’m checking who watched it or who liked it; it’s not like I forgot what I posted. Instead, it’s my own self-facination, my digital ego. In creating that story, I became my target audience. The chosen song is my favourite song, the picture is my favourite picture. In sum, I have created the perfect story, that I enjoy watching… so I watch it… again… and again… and again… And it seems like many people do the same, cue the following Instagram reel:
Reel credit: Sloan Byrd
What I’m trying to say with all of this is that I tend to think of my digital identity as a portfolio of my creativity, my curated posts, my lived experiences. What I fail to recognize is that this portfolio is not fully authentic, but curated for an audience, even if I think that audience is me. My presence online has been in the works since 2007 and is a collection of the playlists I’ve made, the reels I’ve liked, the movie reviews I’ve commented on, and more. It extends past myself as an individual, and into how my engagement on the internet intersects with others. Interesting to note, Jawed, Mahboob, and Yasmeen found in “Dear Internet! Who Am I?” that this interaction actually reduces interpersonal communication skills, rather than providing a space to develop and strengthen them.

It is incredible how you can form connections with people on the other side of the world through social media. When the world shut down in 2021, I was cooped up inside everyday and started talking to a group of girls from Calgary, India, Indonesia, and California on Discord because we all had the same favourite band. Now, five years later, I still talk to those same girls every day. (And I’ve even met one of them!)
Photo credit: Emma Turner (me, in Toronto, seeing that very band last year!)
You can now build connections anywhere, at any time, and with anyone around the globe. It’s powerful and scary and beautiful all at the same time. Jane Hart defines this communicatory network as the “trusted connections with whom an individual interacts (and learns from) on a regular basis” (as quoted in “What are Personal Learning Networks”). Danah Boyd reiterates this idea, claiming that we are solely “the product of the people we know.” Engagement on the web may seem insignificant or minute in the grand scheme of things, but it’s clear that every like/comment/post impacts both yourself and the people within your network.
I enjoy a good Reel scroll in my free time and often come across professional social media accounts. Gone are the days of cold calling, and now instead, real estate agents make edits of houses on the market. Social media gives these professionals the opportunity to broaden their skills through discussions with experts and access to online courses, workshops, and conferences, turning social media into a learning environment. But can those same professionals fully disconnect themselves from their personal identity online? I don’t think, in this age, you can fully, 100% separate your professional presence with your personal one. A professional social media can lead employers to hire you, based off of the content you post, but this can also lead to personal social media ending careers, re: cancel culture.
While the idea of “cancelling” someone can definitely seem just, I’ve seen it used to define who is allowed to make mistakes and who deserves to lose their career. I’ve found that women are far more criticized than men in the public eye, and public criticism is warped by power influences in society: intersectionality plays a crude role in who is allowed to combine the personal and professional. Take, for instance, the idea that Donald Trump can post any AI-generated racist video he wants, Chris Brown is still selling out arenas after abusing women, but Chappell Roan was “cancelled” for having security detail keep children away from her at a hotel.
So while social media provides a number of opportunities to connect with brands, find customers, share ideas, and connect with other like-minded people, it can also sweep the rug out from under your feet. In the spotlight of online, where everyone can be anonymous, it is the users vs you. Misunderstandings and previous bias from societal power influences can make or break a public image.
Everything you post, interact with, and consume adds to your digital identity. There is no longer a separation between the professional and the personal, and there is no deleting something once it’s out on the internet. As Danah Boyd states in the 2012 “Networked Privacy:” “the future is only going to be more networked [and] more interwoven.” The future is now.
So it’s important to reiterate Jawed, Mahboob, and Yasmeen (2019)’s point on how it is critical to incorporate the concept of digital identity and internet safety into the curriculum. Students must be armed with knowledge on what it truly means to put your life online, and how your digital identity can affect those around you. Your digital identity is the communities you engage with and the ideas you reinforce, encompassing your entire life. The internet is no longer separate from “real life,” and should be treated as a part of our society and a part of our education system.









