Ah, the summer prior to junior high—a time when I thought I was in love. Well, as much as a 13-year-old can be in love, right? A boy named Max moved in just a few houses down. He was tall, charming, and had a sense of humor that made me giggle. For three blissful months, we were inseparable. We swam, lounged on his front porch with music in the air, and traded goofy jokes. Though he wasn’t my first kiss, he was definitely my favorite. I’d have done anything for him. But then came the school year.
Max’s good looks and charm quickly made him a hot commodity among the popular kids, and I was left behind, feeling like I’d been thrown to the wolves. My lunch table, shared with two friends, was conveniently located next to a patch of dirt. The only upside? It offered a prime view of the social elite. As I munched on a salami sandwich, half-listening to my friends, I found myself observing this mysterious group. What was their secret?
One day, I watched as a girl casually rested her hand on her neck, while Max looked at her the same way he used to look at me during our lazy summer days. He cracked a joke, and the laughter erupted, leaving my self-esteem in tatters. I didn’t think I was that different from his new buddies—aside from my slightly frizzy hair, of course. At that moment, figuring out the secret to popularity felt just as impossible as finding the perfect product for my wild curls. One of my friends was unfazed; she was perfectly happy just hanging out with me. The other, however, seemed to wilt a little more every day as she chased after the “in-crowd.” I was stuck somewhere in the middle: I craved an invite to the parties I overheard in the halls, yet I was okay with being me.
Fast forward to high school, where I finally found a group of friends who shared my outlook, and we formed our own little club. But if I were a teenager in today’s world, I can only imagine how fragmented I would feel daily. Social media has taken the concept of popularity to dizzying heights. Back then, I caught wind of weekend plans through whispers, but I didn’t know the details—who was invited, where the party was, or how epic it was. Today’s teens have the power of Snapchat, Instagram, and TikTok at their fingertips. They can track who’s partying or hanging out at the mall, and they know exactly who’s having fun and when. And let’s be real—those posts don’t always reflect the true story. For a teen sitting at home longing for acceptance, seeing those updates can feel like sharp shards of glass in an already fragile world.
I can say for sure I wouldn’t have been thrilled to learn that Max kissed Lily at the mall last Saturday night. I would have been left wondering, “Why not me?” But turning off social media? That’s a different story. It’s like trying to look away from a car wreck—you just can’t resist the urge to peek. What we can do, however, is remind our kids that there’s a genuine life beyond the screens. “Real” is the friend sitting beside you, chatting about an upcoming Spanish test or brainstorming a dance routine for that talent show. It’s being present in the moment.
I still haven’t cracked the code on what makes someone popular (though I have finally found the perfect product to tame my hair). We can’t rewind to the days before the digital age, but I hope the younger generation learns that not everything needs to be public. Some memories—like those sweet kisses under the stars—are meant to be cherished in private. Social media can warp reality into something that feels fictional, yet the pain of being excluded is all too real.
In summary, navigating the complexities of teen popularity has always been a challenge, but today’s social media landscape adds layers of difficulty. It’s crucial to foster connections in the real world and remind young people that life beyond their screens is where genuine friendships and experiences are made.