Dear Pinterest,
I still remember the day that you and I first met. I couldn’t have been more than 12 years old. My aunt had told me all about you — “It’s like an online bulletin board,” she described — and showed me around her own profile. I had never seen so many pictures, appropriately dubbed “pins,” in one place before. I could save these pins to a board, or multiple boards, and organize them in whatever way I liked. I knew that I had just discovered something magical.
You were my first taste of social media. I wouldn’t be allowed to have Instagram or Snapchat accounts like most of the kids my age until many years later, but it didn’t matter. You filled that void for me. I created collaborative boards with my friends where we saved pictures and posts that reminded us of our inside jokes. Through you, I first met and interacted with people I didn’t know, too. You know what they say — “don’t talk to strangers on the internet” — but everyone I talked with was so kind. I was a member of a collaborative board for a band I liked, and someone once posted a pin that said something along the lines of, “Repost this and see what nice things people say about you!” The comments of that post were quickly filled with compliments, reminders to never give up and lyrics and inside jokes related to the fandom. I can’t say whether I would have found that level of kindness on other sites, especially since I was so young, but I found it there, with you.
You give me a space to celebrate the things that I love. The boards on my first account (yes, I have several accounts) were dedicated to specific fandoms I was part of: Harry Potter, Disney, “Doctor Who,” different bands I listened to and YouTubers I watched. Those fandoms have reappeared and evolved on my more recent accounts too, as I have gotten into shows like “Gilmore Girls” and artists like Taylor Swift. You’re like a time capsule of my life — no matter which account I am using, you allow me to reflect on my life thus far through the figures and stories that shaped me. You have never made me feel embarrassed to show off these interests as parts of myself.
You have always encouraged me to be creative in countless ways. Whenever I have a new idea for a story, you are there with writing tips, character artwork and prompts to play around with. My profile is filled with storyboards, most of them abandoned before I even wrote a full page, but should I ever come back to those ideas, I have a virtual database to spark my motivation again. You’re a great outlet for all other kinds of art as well. Whether it’s shots from movies I love, calligraphy styles I want to try, drawings and paintings I find pretty, tattoos I might get or outfits I’d like to recreate, you appreciate art in its many forms just as much as I do. We’re such a great fit for each other.
You help me take care of myself and plan for my future. The idea of planning a wedding on Pinterest has become a bit of a joke, but do I, like countless others, have a board dedicated to this special occasion? You bet. There’s no telling whether I’ll actually use it — it will probably all be outdated by the time I get married — but you possess a wide array of knowledge and ideas that could someday serve me well. You’re also the first place I go when I’m looking for new meals. My recipe board easily takes up most of my attention when I’m perusing your pages. It has sections based on mealtime and geographical location, although Christmas cookie recipes, in particular, have their own board. Any time I try something new that I’ve found from your recommendations, I’m reminded of just how well you have come to know me.
You offer my future self advice that is more relevant to me in this current moment than a perfect wedding or a recipe repertoire. From hours of scrolling through your subjects, I have found helpful tips, from apartment hunting checklists to how to boost my credit score to the best way to secure my graduation cap on my head. My ever-approaching entry into “the real world” is nerve-racking, and while I’m lucky enough to have people in my life to help guide me, I know that others don’t have access to the kinds of knowledge that more experienced people have acquired. You have advice that people might not think to ask for, and you welcome us in to receive it.
Our relationship has had its ups and downs. Just as I have grown over the years, so have you. But despite all of this change, you are still known as the “positive platform” I always knew you to be — the one that “help(s) people connect with things that bring them inspiration…avoiding a lot of the toxicity that you would find elsewhere in social media.” There have been times when I have gone several months, even years, without typing your name in my search bar or clicking on your app icon. I don’t know how that makes you feel — I know that you can’t truly feel because you’re not actually aware or human, but your content is so representative of myself that it’s like I’m looking into a mirror. Every time I return, I rediscover just how organized, imaginative and inspiring you are. I hope you know that I have, and will, always come back to you.
Daily Arts Writer Hannah Carapellotti can be reached at hmcarp@umich.edu.