In April 2009, I was 17. As my A Levels ended and I hurtled towards the next phase of my life (uni, ADULTHOOD), I signed up for this site I’d heard of called Twitter. I was a social media native already, having navigated Bebo, Habbo Hotel, MySpace and, reluctantly, Facebook. What was one more?
Back then, Twitter was pretty much an empty wasteland and we all shouted into the void for a while until things started to pick up a bit. Celebrities joined and in an age before “cancel culture” and watertight PR teams, they were unbridled - and for the first time, accessible.
In 2010, Twitter saw my very first relationship which had weathered GCSEs, A Levels, a last, lovely long summer and one difficult semester at university falter, and finally collapse.
From 2011 onwards, I used Twitter like a diary. I was not yet even 21 so there’s so, so, SO much absolute bollocks and inane thought. But I also started joining the common conversation using hashtags and built up not just a following, but connected with people as friends - some of whom I’m still friends with today.
Twitter has seen me grow into an adult and all the good, bad and often ugly that comes along with that.
During the pandemic with nothing to do but sit in our homes, Twitter was an ‘always on’ busy hub of collective thoughts, worries and new hustles. It’s where I realised I could connect with other freelancers, *gasp* get work - and share it too.
I tweeted about my pregnancy and connected with a whole other subset of people: new, expectant and well-established mums. Again, some of whom are now my friends and greatest confidants.
Went and got a bloody blue tick and all, didn’t I?
Of course, you can make connections anywhere - but there’s nowhere online quite like Twitter. Aside from it being one of the very last in text-based social media, its content just doesn’t quite work anywhere else.
You can’t really build up tension in a hilariously told thread like this one, on Instagram.
Your aunties don’t get why or how the Twitter Moth is funny. They share overlong life updates and “memes” on Facebook, babes!
It’s a behemoth with uncountable subsets. Let me reel a couple off: Book Twitter, Coding Twitter, Doctor Twitter, Fiat 500 Twitter, Journo Twitter (the DISCOURSE) and of course, the unrivalled and unparalleled Black Twitter.
I love the ability to dip into conversations and cultural moments using hashtags (#susanalbumparty, anyone?). I love the annual #LoveIsland tweets - more so really, than the actual programme. I love how RAPID people are with their comebacks and memes, some so creative that it’s astounding. I even love that I have to do a little chuckle as my husband shows me a screenshot Instagram meme, knowing secretly that I saw the original on Twitter weeks ago.
It’s hard to explain unless you’re in it, but I’ve always felt completely and totally accepted. That I have a place on Twitter, no matter where I am in my life. I’ve never had to delete it “for mental health reasons”, or add restrictions to my account because I keep being tagged in pics which say things like: “I love cooking with wine, sometimes I even put it in the food - har har!!”.
Of course, it’s not without its faults. No one wants to be Twitter’s “Main Character” and god help you if you are. It can be a vile place: even just 280 characters can hold a scary amount of hate.
So now it’s been bought by a man who’s got far too much money, someone who, it appears, doesn’t seem to really understand how the platform works or how people use it - things might be changing. I don’t want to reel off why I think Space Simp is so dangerous (everyone knows!), so let me get to the point:
I’m slightly concerned about how upset I feel that the hellsite is changing and potentially disappearing.
It can’t be just me who will miss it terribly? Of course we all know it’s a binfire most of the time, but we all - even secretly - love it, don’t we?
If it stays, I’ll be intrigued to see how a SV bro who keeps using that sink joke will make things better, the same or (more likely) a lot, lot worse. Saying that - maybe it’s best if the lights go off and the ship sinks quickly, so that we can look back on Twitter as “a time” and not remember it ACTUALLY on fire because it took someone with a big ol’ ego to come and spoil it for everyone else.
If it does break, I’m on @ellalucie on Instagram and you can follow my podcast account at @youstillpodcast.
Twitter: you have been there for all of my adult life and I WILL miss you, even though you are really annoying. You showed me the best - and worst - of people.
RIP, bird app!
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I wrote about postpartum sex here, for Happiful.
I also wrote about the mental impact of baby tracking apps, for i.
Side note, I’ve finally stopped tracking every single one of Polly’s moves, like a frazzled PI, after one year. Yay!
You can listen to You, Still on Spotify, Apple Podcasts and Acast.
It will coming back in 2023.