Why Guilt Shouldn’t Be a Guest at Your Celebration

Social media has done a number on us, sweeping over the foundational events of life–dating, marriage, pregnancy, parenting, holidays–and washing them in an unhealthy amount of comparison. No matter your situation, no matter your longings, no matter your suffering, someone else has what you lack, and social media makes sure it’s in your face, loud and clear.

The result? Jealousy. Envy. Pain. Resentment. Depression. Anxiety.

So what do we do? We take “breaks” from social media, announcing our departure with fanfare, encouraging people to lavish us with loving comment attention. We unfollow people–thank goodness Facebook invented this option, so we can conveniently hide the fact that we don’t want to see someone’s posts anymore without having to unfriend them and cause all sorts of drama. If we’re feeling extreme, we delete our accounts (until FOMO takes over and we create new ones).

I’ve been there myself. When I was still single and my thirtieth birthday had come and gone, watching people make their relationships “Facebook official,” then get married, then have babies–all of it documented in full-color photographs and spattered across my news feed–wasn’t easy.

What did I do? I celebrated my friends’ happiness. I stood up in a lot of weddings (27 Dresses, anyone?). I threw showers. I cuddled newborn babes. And you know what? I loved all of it. Even though I was longing for those things myself. Even though I felt like they might never happen to me. Why? Because I love my friends. I celebrate their joys and I mourn their sorrows. That’s what it means to do life together.

Never once did I ask a single one of my friends to tone down their happiness or celebrate less exuberantly simply because my life was on a different track. That would have been both selfish and unfair. Please understand, I’m not trying to claim I’m a model of perfection in this area. I’m just trying to be–well, rational.

Social media is the new norm. The in-your-face factor is just something we have to learn to cope with. We have to find a way to deal with our compulsion to keep up with the Facebook Joneses.

I think what bothers me most are the admonitions from well-meaning souls who caution us against celebrating the precious moments of our lives openly on social media because doing so might hurt someone.

A few posts I read this past week actually had me feeling guilty for a few minutes because they went on and on about how Mother’s Day is a terrible holiday, how it is injurious and insensitive to the childless, the motherless, those who have broken relationships with their mothers or children, and about 90% of the rest of the population. I actually felt bad that I’m the mother of two sweet girls. And after I shook it off, I got a little angry that these writers had attempted to put the burden of alleviating other people’s pain on those who don’t share that pain by saying, in so many words, You shouldn’t be celebrating this.

Friends, this kind of guilt trap is pointless. It helps no one. It solves nothing.

I don’t mean to sound callous or unfeeling. But the truth is, it is impossible to save other people from pain we haven’t caused. Yes, it’s good to be sensitive. Yes, it’s good to care. Yes, it’s good to reach out in love to those you know are struggling with where they’re at in life. Jesus would do the same. But denying our own joy is not the answer. Pretending we aren’t celebrating our happy moments isn’t the answer. God doesn’t ask that of us.

James 1:17 says, “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows,” and 1 Corinthians 1:31 says, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.” From these Scriptures, we can understand that our joys are gifts from God, and he doesn’t want us to hide them, downplay them, or pretend we are not blessed.

At the same time, Romans 12:15 says, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” In essence, we have permission to be in two places at once.

One of my dearest friends has suffered a number of miscarriages. Other people’s pregnancies and birth stories are a massive pain point for her. When I was pregnant with both my girls, I was careful to be gentle with her. I asked her what she wanted to know and not know, and I honored her wishes. And you know what? She still celebrated with me because she loves me and she wanted to be part of my joy. On the flip side, she mostly stays off Facebook these days, because she knows there are emotional triggers waiting for her there. She takes responsibility for her own mental and emotional health and sets boundaries accordingly. She doesn’t put that responsibility on anyone else. She rejoices with me over my daughters, and I weep with her over her losses. Are you following me here?

We are all responsible for our own mental and emotional health. We are all responsible for our own boundaries.

So you there, the one who married late in life with the husband who buys you roses for every anniversary large and small–keep posting pictures of your flowers. And you, the mom who just gave birth to her eighth precious bundle of babyness–I hope you’ll share every milestone. And you, the girl planning her dream wedding–I can’t wait to see your pictures. I hope no one makes any of you feel you shouldn’t share your joy anymore.

I waited many years to celebrate Mother’s Day as a mom. And today, I will enjoy every moment with my girls, no matter what we do, no matter what my gift is or is not (I already got a single marigold potted in a plastic party cup–priceless). And if I want to Instagram a photo or two, or post a happy moment on Facebook, I will–without guilt. Because I can come alongside my hurting friends with love and support and prayers while celebrating my own joyful moments. It’s not an either/or. It’s an and.