Showing posts with label social media. Show all posts
Showing posts with label social media. Show all posts

Monday, July 13, 2026

Is the Group Chat the New Diary? Why So Many Women Process Life There First

From realsimple.com

Diaries are a thing of the past, but group chats are busier than ever 

Key Takeaways

  • For many women, the group chat has replaced the diary as the first place to sort through feelings, offering instant comfort, perspective, and the sense that someone is always there.
  • That speed and support can be helpful, but when every feeling is run through other people first, it becomes easier to chase reassurance than to figure out what you actually think.
  • The healthiest balance is to use the chat for connection without letting it replace private reflection, so venting leads to clarity instead of keeping you stuck in the same loop.

“Can I vent real quick?”

It’s a text sent in group chats so often it has practically become ritual. A modern permission slip for emotional release. Whether it’s frustration with a partner, confusion over a friendship, workplace drama, or simply the weight of an anxious thought, the process is almost always the same: someone sends a message into the chat, the typing bubbles begin, reactions flood in, and within minutes, reassurance arrives. 

A heart emoji. 
A “dw you’re not crazy”
A “no because i would’ve done the same thing”

The emotional transaction is immediate. The weight lifts. The validation lands. 

For many women, the group chat has quietly become what the diary once was: the primary place where emotions are processed, identities are shaped, and life is narrated in real time. But unlike a diary, which demands solitude and introspection, the group chat transforms emotional processing into something collective, reactive, and constantly affirmed by others. 

And in many ways, that changes not only how we communicate, but also how we understand ourselves. 

Diary Vs. Group Chat

                                                                                            Credit:

franckreporter / Getty Images


Before phones became extensions of ourselves, many of us had diaries. Mine went everywhere with me: school trips, vacations, sleepovers, even from my bedroom to the living room. It had one of those tiny locks that implied I had deeply classified information inside, when in reality it mostly contained dramatic entries about middle school friendships and whichever boy I claimed to crush on that month. 

Still, it held everything. Almost every thought written out, painstakingly detailed. 

Every frustration with my teachers. Every family argument. Every moment that felt catastrophic at age twelve. I would write until my hand hurt, close the diary, lock it shut, and somehow feel lighter afterward. The relief came not from being validated, but from externalizing the thought itself. 

What made diaries powerful was the privacy of them. Writing forced reflection. Even when recounting something dramatic, there was an unavoidable level of self-examination involved. You weren’t just documenting events; you were shaping a narrative, deciding what mattered, replaying your own behaviour back to yourself, and immortalizing an event in the way you chose to in the confines of this diary. 

A diary was messy, emotional, and often irrational, but it was still deeply personal. It existed without audience participation. 

Somewhere between adolescence and adulthood, though, that ritual disappeared. The diary was replaced by the phone, and eventually, by the group chat.

As technology evolved, so did our emotional habits. Our problems became more layered, our lives moved faster, and our desire for support became immediate. The group chat answered that need perfectly. Instead of sitting alone with our thoughts, we could process them collectively and in real time. 

That shift fundamentally changed the nature of emotional processing itself.  We moved from private reflection to collaborative interpretation. From inner dialogue to instant feedback. 

From asking ourselves how we felt to asking a group of people to help us decide how we felt. 

The Need For Immediate Processing

The rise of the group chat mirrors the rise of immediacy in every other part of modern life. We stream entertainment instantly, order food instantly, and receive information instantly, so naturally, emotional reassurance has begun operating in the same way. 

As digital communication becomes faster and more constant, our emotional lives have followed suit—turning to our devices not only to share experiences, but to seek comfort, reassurance, and perspective in real time.

Researchers have begun describing this shift as “digital emotion regulation,” a field examining how technology has changed the ways people manage and respond to emotions. In a 2020 paper published on this shift, psychologists argued that people increasingly use technology not simply to communicate, but to actively manage and shape their emotional experiences. 

We no longer wait to process experiences before sharing them. We share them as they are unfolding.  

A voice note recorded while crying in the car.
A screenshot sent seconds after a text exchange. 
A play-by-play breakdown of a date before the Uber ride is even over. 

And that shift has changed the way we make sense of our emotions. Instead of sitting with a feeling before deciding what it means, we now often invite others into the process immediately. The group chat has become a live emotional processing centre where thoughts can be shared before they are fully formed. 

At its best, this creates connection. The group chat offers perspective, support and the reminder that we are not alone. Reactions, responses, and opinions arrive within seconds, providing a sense of comfort and validation that a diary could never provide. 

However, there is also a trade-off. When we process emotions through the reactions of others before understanding them ourselves, we can start looking outward for clarity instead of inward for reflection. Validation can help us feel seen, but it can also shift the focus from understanding an emotion to confirming it. The feeling may be acknowledged, but not always fully processed because the answer arrives before the reflection does. 

Psychologists, like Amanda Rose, have studied this dynamic through the concept of “co-rumination,” or the tendency to repeatedly discuss and revisit problems with others, speculating about them, and focusing on negative feelings. Research suggests that while co-rumination can strengthen friendships and create feelings of closeness, it can also keep people focused on the problem rather than moving through it. 

And that’s what makes group chats uniquely powerful: they don’t just document our emotions; they can shape how we interpret them. 

Unlike diaries, which require silence and patience, group chats create a constant feedback loop. At their best, these spaces can be deeply supportive. Women are often turning to other women who share similar lived experiences: dating disappointments, workplace sexism, friendship dynamics, burnout, and loneliness. There is comfort in being understood without overexplaining. 

But that same immediacy can also blur the line between processing and performing emotion. Psychologists like Rose suggest that when deeply discussing problems with others becomes the primary way we cope, it reinforces negative emotions. Feelings no longer exist privately before entering the world. They are workshopped communally in real time. 

The Comfort ... and the Cost

There’s a reason group chats feel indispensable. 

In an era defined by loneliness and disconnection, they create immediacy, companionship, and accessibility. Women separated by cities, careers, relationships and timezones can still experience daily emotional closeness through a screen. The group chat becomes proof that someone is always there. 

It also creates something many women deeply crave: shared experience. Certain emotional realities—dating fatigue, friendship grief, workplace dynamics, safety concerns—often feel less isolating when spoken aloud among women who inherently understand them. 

But constant collective processing comes with consequences too. While sharing emotions can create connection, psychologists have found that there is a difference between processing an experience and repeatedly revisiting it. 

The diary asked, “What do I honestly feel?”
The group chat often asks, “Do you guys think that I am in the right here?” 

The distinction matters. 

Because while support is healthy, endless affirmation can become its own kind of reliance. Digital emotion regulation can offer real benefits by helping people feel supported and understood. But when validation becomes the first step in processing every emotion, we may begin relying on outside reassurance before developing our own understanding of what we feel. The comfort is immediate but the reflection may come later, or sometimes not at all.

Sometimes the chat becomes less about understanding emotions and more about reinforcing them. Venting replaces reflection. Reactions replace resolution. Psychologists often distinguish between seeking support and seeking reassurance. While support can help us feel understood and connected, relying on external validation to determine whether our feelings are “right” can make it harder to develop trust in our own emotional judgment.

And because conversations move quickly, emotions can remain suspended rather than fully processed. One moment of distress can be rapidly replaced by another person’s story, another crisis, another screenshot, another spiral. 

The result is a strange paradox: we are more emotionally connected than ever, yet often less capable of sitting alone with our own thoughts. 

Sociologist and MIT professor Sherry Turkle has spent years studying how technology reshapes human connection. In her book Alone Together, she argues that while digital communication allows us to feel connected, constant access to others can also change our relationship with solitude, conversation, and self-reflection. Constant connection can create a sense of companionship while also altering our ability to be alone with our thoughts. The group chat reflects this paradox: it provides community and emotional support, but it may also reduce the moments of solitude where we make sense of our own experiences.

Conclusion

The diary never disappeared. It evolved. 

What was once private reflection has become collective narration. Our emotional lives are now co-authored in real time by the people closest to us—shaped through reactions, opinions, reassurances, and shared analysis. 

And while there is undeniably beauty in that kind of community, there is also tension in constantly needing witnesses for our emotions before fully understanding them ourselves. 

Perhaps the biggest shift is this: 
We no longer ask, “What do I feel?”
We ask, “What do we think about what I feel?”

And that may be the clearest sign yet that emotional processing is no longer a private act of reflection, but a collective experience shaped in real time by the people watching it unfold.

https://www.realsimple.com/is-the-group-chat-the-new-diary-12010220

Friday, September 12, 2025

Diary of a Gen Z Student: How a young person curates their Instagram profile in 2025

From irishexaminer.com 

By Jane Cowan

"You might think this is ridiculous, just another thing that the youth of today are overthinking. But your Instagram profile is the first thing people will look at if they want to find out about you."

My favourite technological invention is the WhatsApp story. Maybe it’s because I always have a vague inkling that any story on WhatsApp was posted accidentally. 

The people who post on WhatsApp are generally not avid social media users. I make that assumption because I’ve never seen someone my age engage in such social media posting. 

In truth, the chief offenders for posting stories on WhatsApp that I know of, are my parents.

The photo is usually out of focus or backlit so you can’t really tell what it is. But I respect it.

There’s a level of nonchalance about it that someone my age could only feign. It’s almost audacious.

                         Instagram, for gen Z, is a very specific art form. We have many unwritten guidelines. It must appear effortless

The social media platform you’ll tend to find me posting on is Instagram. 

And there is nothing laid back about what makes it to my Instagram profile.

Instagram, for gen Z, is a very specific art form. We have many unwritten guidelines. It must appear effortless.

You’ve just rolled out of bed, dragged a brush through your hair, and happened upon the most aesthetically stunning, golden lighting, which you document with a quick selfie; you didn’t even have to try.

Well, that’s how it’s supposed to look. The fact that you waited three hours for the sun to shine at just the right angle is no one else’s business.

If the picture is for your main Instagram grid — an old school Instagram post, as I like to think of it — then you can’t post just the one picture.

You’ve got to turn it into a carousel. That means you must take numerous effortless photos and post them all at once.

You want it to be a bit like a scrapbook. A highly curated and beautiful scrapbook. The collection of photos you land on must also be varied.

You could decide to post 15 selfies in one go, but you don’t want people to think you’re narcissistic.

Even if the only reason you’re posting is because you feel you look especially stunning in a particular photo, you must disguise it.

Dilute the self-love by including a landscape or two, maybe a coffee, a picture with your friends. This is the highlight reel for your life, so you should present it as such.

The Instagram story is a little less pressure. You only need the one flawlessly executed photo to warrant an Instagram story. But the details matter. 

If you’re adding a location to it, the cool kids know to only use the translucent location tag. The blue and white location tag? Even millennials should know better.

One thing’s for certain, though: whether it’s being posted to the grid or your story, you must find the perfect song to accompany any Instagram activity. 

That impromptu photograph can’t be posted in silence. Its essence, your mood, the vibes, however you want to think of it, must be captured in music.

This is the ultimate insight into someone’s personality, so that song is being painstakingly selected.

You might think this is ridiculous, just another thing that the youth of today are overthinking. But your Instagram profile is the first thing people will look at if they want to find out about you.

So, you want to be cautious about what makes the cut. That guy you met on a night out and have been on three dates with? 

If you wouldn’t introduce him to your parents, he shouldn’t be on your Instagram. You have to earn that kind of real estate.

There’s some fun in it, too. The best part about posting is checking your phone every seven minutes to bask in the likes and comments. 

Anyone who says they’re not doing that, is lying. With every like, you get to swipe through your photos and admire your creativity from the perspective of the person who just liked it.

Lap up the adoration. The worst part about posting an Instagram story is only having 24 hours to do that good work. People may say that this kind of behaviour makes my generation self-obsessed.

Maybe that’s true. God knows there’s a serious amount of validation to be gotten from people liking your post, even if you couldn’t pick those people out of a lineup. It still counts. 

Kind of like those random people sliding into your Instagram DMs looking for a sugar baby and offering to pay your college fees. I have no desire to respond, but it’s not bad for my ego.

When I grow up, I might achieve the social media presence of my parents on WhatsApp. No curation, song choice, or scrapbooking.

Just vibes.

But I’ll have to get back to you on that. It feels too reckless for now.

https://www.irishexaminer.com/lifestyle/people/arid-41702453.html

Monday, April 7, 2025

Junk journaling: the origins and its rise in popularity today

From miamistudent.net

TikTok has a way of reinventing ideas as the “new” trend, bringing long-time practices to light, and junk journaling is no exception.

I discovered the concept of junk journaling two months ago when I looked up ‘journal’ on TikTok. I expected ASMR videos of writing journal entries to pop up, but I found creators sharing the content of the pictures, drawings, stickers, wrapping paper and more in ‘junk journals.’ 

I love scrapbooking, so what struck me about this practice?

TikTok is a platform that heavily focuses on creative expression, DIY content and repurposing materials. Over a year ago, Karli Predieri, a senior education major, found people doing it on TikTok and decided to make one of her own.

“Junk journaling is basically just taking, anytime you go somewhere – on a trip or something – you take little pieces. I do a lot of receipts and coasters,” Predieri said. “Whatever I’m doing, I keep stuff. It’s a way to look back on all the things I’ve done throughout the year.”

                                                                                      Photo by Josie Zimmerman | The Miami Student
                                                       Zimmerman shared some of Predieri's junk journal spreads
.

Junk journaling has deep historical roots. According to Justine Jenkins, historians claim that journals and diaries existed as far back as the Middle Ages. During this period, the ability to read and write was reserved for the upper class of society.

The practice dates back to the 19th-century tradition of scrapbooking, where families recorded their lives and events through mementos. This was done to capture significant life events, such as weddings, funerals, and childbirth.

Around this time, printing companies emerged, and beautiful art and designs became more accessible in cards, postcards, and even advertisements. The invention of the camera in the 1820s only further encouraged the documentation of everyday life.

By the end of the 1800s, families were gathering and sticking their items into any book they had, including ledgers or blank books. Flash forward to the 20th century — stores committed to scrapbooking began cropping up in the 1990s and 2000s.

                                                                                   Photo by Josie Zimmerman | The Miami Student
                                                                      Zimmerman decorated the cover of her journal.

TikTok user Johannaclough described junk journaling through her junk journals in the last 10 years.

“Traditionally a book [is] made out of various papers (originating from ‘junk,’ which is where it gets its name, but can be a mix of anything you want),” the caption read.

Often when people think of journaling, they think of keeping a diary. Predieri shared what makes junk journaling unique: it uses things that would otherwise be thrown away.

“You’re taking a lot of what you have and a lot of stuff that you would typically throw away, and you’re making it into a keepsake and something to reflect on,” Predieri said. “I add pictures also, which helps me remember the event.”

Since learning about junk journaling, I have incorporated it into my own journal life by decorating my diaries, Bible and recently my first junk journal. Gathering stickers, saving cards and papers, and making use of scraps puts my body at ease.

Something about it feels freeing – there are no hard and fast rules about junk journaling. People can just paste whatever they want onto a piece of paper and make it pretty without perfection as the main goal.

                                                                                                                            Photo by Josie Zimmerman | The Miami Student
                                                            Zimmerman uses different scraps to put together her junk journal

So why junk journaling? Why do the TikTok girls gravitate towards the practice of immortalizing trinkets and scraps that would otherwise be thrown away?

Predieri has a love-hate relationship with today’s world transitioning everything to technology.

“I really like that junk journaling is like a tangible thing, because I have something to look back on,” Predieri said. “I love that there are digital pictures you can look back on, but there’s nothing like having something tangible in your hands that you can look at.”

Junk journaling holds the appeal of tangibility in a digital age, where most people keep their pictures on their phones and sometimes never develop them into physical frames. Social media also plays into this curated depiction of life, whereas junk journaling embraces authenticity.

Physical proof of life events feels different for Predieri compared to what is stored behind a screen.

“Especially with AI and whatnot, a lot of stuff can be edited,” Predieri said. “It doesn’t feel as personal to me when you’re doing it online…and it doesn’t feel as unique as doing it physically.” 

zimmer82@miamioh.edu 

https://www.miamistudent.net/article/2025/04/junk-journal-scrapbooking-arts-crafts-tiktok-hobby?ct=content_open&cv=cbox_featured

Tuesday, June 11, 2024

Peeping on Pepys

From historynewsnetwork.org

By Caroline Wazer

How moving Samuel Pepys’ diary off the bedside table changed history on the internet

In a 1970 New York Times review of the first unexpurgated edition of the diary of Samuel Pepys,  the literary critic Paul Delany wrote of how easy it is to commune with Pepys, who “experiences and records reality in just the way we do ourselves, as a turbid flow of incomplete, half‐coherent perceptions, connected only in that they all impinge on a single consciousness, our own.” This intimacy came with a price, according to Delany, who warned that modern readers should brace for the “salutary, even shocking experience” of recognizing “in Pepys’ secret life, hidden behind a superficial gregariousness, the degree of our own isolation from our fellows.” 

Reading Pepys in 1970 would indeed have been mostly a solitary endeavour, as it had been since the first expurgated edition was published in 1825, a few years after the publication of John Evelyn’s diary proved there was a market for the genre. The work of transcribing the cryptic shorthand that filled the six bound volumes Pepys had bequeathed to his alma mater, Cambridge University’s Magdalene College, upon his death in 1703, fell to an undergraduate student named John Smith. 

                                                 Samuel Pepys, by John Hayls, 1666. [National Portrait Gallery, London]

Twenty-six-year old Pepys, a clerk in the office of the Exchequer, had begun the diary in 1660; in his first entry he described his station as “very handsome, and esteemed rich, but indeed very poor.” Later the same year, his acceptance of a different clerkship, this time for the royal dockyards, kicked off a decades-long career in naval administration. Pepys continued recording his daily activities and thoughts until 1669, when he stopped out of concern for his eyesight. 

In the centuries since, Pepys’ diary has developed a double reputation. On the one hand it contains an enormous amount of valuable information about important historical events as well as everyday life in 1660s London. Pepys’ career gave him easy access to high-ranking government figures, which made him a useful reporter of high-level information about political, economic, and military affairs. He also covered the return of Charles II from exile, the Great Plague of London, and the Great Fire of London. Pepys loved being out in the city and talking with fellow Londoners of all ranks; through his diary he takes us with him to shops, church, taverns, neighbours’ houses, and theatres. As a result, his diary is a primary source that has continued to hold interest for historians even as the field has moved away from 19th-century “great man” history and toward examinations of the past through social and cultural lenses.

On the other hand, the diary has a literary reputation largely distinct from its historical value. It is, in anglophone and especially British culture, often held up as being the right sort of book for casual nightly reading: interesting enough to dip into regularly, but not so exciting as to tempt the reader to stay up late. Among the figures that either kept a copy of Pepys’ diary bedside or have recommended others do so are the economist Edith Penrose, the British politician and TV personality Gyles Brandreth, and Arthur Bryant, a Pepys biographer who in the Encyclopaedia Britannica entry on Pepys deems the diary “probably, after the Bible and James Boswell’s Life of Samuel Johnson, the best bedside book in the English language.”

Interested in reading the diary but sceptical of his own ability to commit to finishing it in book form, a British web designer and programmer named Phil Gyford began considering a different way to digest Pepys in 2002. As Gyford himself has explained in interviews, structuring the diary as a daily blog “seemed such a simple and obvious idea that I thought someone must have created such a website already.” Nobody had, and PepysDiary.com launched in December 2002.

Almost immediately, it became clear that the blog format offered readers more than just convenience: it also enabled a giant Pepys book club. “Entries and footnotes are already being annotated by readers who provide explanations and additional information, creating a more communal experience than conventional publishing allows,” Gyford told the BBC in January 2003, shortly after the first entry went live. “So rather than simply publishing a dead — albeit fascinating — text, I now find myself in charge of a far more exciting living read.”

Pepys’ final diary entry, dated May 30, 1669, was first posted online in the spring of 2012. “Thus ends all that I doubt I shall ever be able to do with my own eyes in the keeping of my journal,” Pepys wrote. “And so I betake myself to that course, which is almost as much as to see myself go into my grave.” (Pepys would live another 34 years, but, true to his word, he never returned to his diary.) The comments left on the entry by PepysDiary.com readers were similarly funereal. “It’s a bit like hearing of a close friend’s passing,” commenter Stan Oram wrote. Commenter Eric Walla observed that “Sam has been truly alive for us in ‘real time,’ and having the diary come to a close we must ourselves awake and remember how Sam has been gone from us for these centuries.”

PepysDiary.com is now in its 22nd continuous year of operation, a little more than a year into the third “reading” of the full diary. (The second reading ran from 2013 to 2022.) Gyford originally planned to run through the full nine years and five months of the diary just once, which was, in 2002, an incredibly long time to imagine keeping a single internet project functional. In a 2012 retrospective for Wired, Russell M. Davies philosophically compared the emergence of PepysDiary.com to the development of the Clock of the Long Now. He also asserted that the Pepys blog teaches us “that web success can be built with things other than venture cash, spammy PR, and rapid scaling. PepysDiary.com has a community because people found it, hung around and started contributing.”

Perhaps the earliest and most dramatic contribution made by commenters was to challenge Gyford’s choice to pull his text from the most complete copyright-free version available, Henry Benjamin Wheatley’s edition from the 1890s. This edition had been digitized and made freely available online through Project Gutenberg, which was founded in 1971 and began distributing free eBooks through ARPANET more than a decade before the internet existed. The use of Wheatley’s text meant that entries on PepysDiary.com were, initially, pockmarked with ellipses signifying expurgations. 

Many of these passages had been struck because they detailed Pepys’ lively (and not always consensual) extramarital sex life, although plenty were simple mentions of biological functions. One sentence concerning Pepys’ wife Elizabeth’s menstrual cycle from Pepys’ first entry, dated January 1, 1660, originally appeared on Gyford’s website as follows.

My wife …  gave me hopes of her being with child, but on the last day of the year … [the hope was belied.]

The early comments on this first post broadly expressed excitement for the project, but several readers, unhappy about the elisions, posted the missing excerpts themselves, basing their corrections on the aforementioned 1970 edition reviewed in the Times, edited by Robert Latham and William Matthews and published by the University of California Press. It was the first and only exhaustive publication to print all previously expurgated text. It was also still under copyright.

“I got tired of waiting for someone to post the omitted material,” Steve Dodson, a long-time blogger who uses the nom de plume Languagehat, posted several days after the first entry went live, “and went to the library on my lunch hour to find it.” Thereafter, readers with access to the Latham and Matthews edition reliably posted the expurgated material underneath each daily entry, always in chunks short enough to constitute fair use (not a difficult feat, considering that the diary contains more than a million words).

Eventually, in late 2022, Gyford himself began incrementally adding the expurgations from the comments into the body of the text. By the time Gyford embarked on his third reading cycle, at the beginning of 2023, the same passage from Pepys’ first entry had been updated to read as follows. 

My wife … [, after the absence of her terms for seven weeks, – L&M] gave me hopes of her being with child, but on the last day of the year … [the hope was belied.] [she hath them again. – L&M]

The campaign for the restoration of Wheatley’s elisions — and the de facto freely accessible, digital, unexpurgated edition of Pepys’ diary that resulted — was not the only material change to the website that resulted from reader initiative. Sometimes these innovations were technical, reflecting the site’s immediate popularity among tech-savvy internet denizens. In one notable example, commenter Hugo van Kemenade’s 2016 Python script, which calculates sunrise and sunset times for each day of the diary, was made an official feature of the website in 2023. 

More often, however, the commenters simply share observations, crack jokes, and ask and answer each other’s questions in each daily entry’s comments section. A short but characteristic example is Pepys’ missive from April 3, 1661, which reads in full:

Up among my workmen, my head akeing all day from last night’s debauch. To the office all the morning, and at noon dined with Sir W. Batten and Pen, who would needs have me drink two drafts of sack to-day to cure me of last night’s disease, which I thought strange but I think find it true.

Then home with my workmen all the afternoon, at night into the garden to play on my flageolette, it being moonshine, where I staid a good while, and so home and to bed.

This day I hear that the Dutch have sent the King a great present of money, which we think will stop the match with Portugal; and judge this to be the reason that our so great haste in sending the two ships to the East Indys is also stayed.

Some of the comments left below this entry consist of poking good-natured fun at Sam for his hangover (a commenter named Judy: “I wonder how Sam stood the pain in his aking head”) and the lack of concern he showed for his neighbours by staying up late in his garden tooting his flageolette, a wind instrument similar to the modern recorder (a commenter named Dirk: “Lucky that Sam didn't get any flower pots thrown at his head. Some people need their sleep, you know!”). 

A meatier discussion, however, was kicked off by Vincent’s assertion, based on historical astronomical data, that the “sky must have been very clear” that night for there to have been any moonlight visible, “as [the] new moon was on 30 of March.” Immediately, other commenters jumped in to point out that Vincent had his dates wrong: Pepys used the Julian calendar, not the Gregorian one we use today and on which Vincent’s astronomical information was based. Properly converted, Pepys’ April 3, 1661, would have been the equivalent of “our,” i.e., the Gregorian calendar’s, April 13, 1661, a day on which the moon was in fact very close to full. 

From there, the commenters launched into a wide-ranging discussion on the nuances of Julian–Gregorian conversion and the role of the lunar cycle in Church festal calendars. Vincent left his initial comment about the moon on April 4, 2004; the conversation is still attracting new comments as of April 2024, 20 years and two reading cycles later.

The diary fans community is not limited to PepysDiary.com. In May 2009, Gyford set up the @samuelpepys Twitter account to automatically post snippets from entries at approximately the time Pepys would have engaged in whatever activity is described in the snippet. This continued until August 2023, when, frustrated with Twitter’s increasingly erratic policies regarding automated tweets, Gyford stopped updating the Twitter account; the only social media account now associated with PepysDiary.com is on Mastodon. 

As is probably unsurprising to anyone who spends time on the internet, the comments left on PepysDiary.com pages differ in length and tone from those responding to its social media posts. The website version of Pepys’ entry of January 28, 1661, in which our correspondent describes being accidentally spat upon by an attractive lady while at the theatre — he specifies he did not mind in the least — provoked discussions about the historical meanings of various details of the entry, including a genuine interrogation into the 17th-century etiquette of spitting for ladies. When the same entry was posted on Twitter, on January 28, 2014, and on Mastodon, 10 years later, reactions were more visceral and off-the-cuff, ranging from “what a perv” to the pithy “bro what.”

Sometimes social media commenters respond with visual memes, as a Mastodon user named Kolya did to a section of Pepys’ entry for April 6, 1661, in which Pepys describes cornering and kissing a pretty barmaid.

Sometimes social media commenters respond with visual memes, as a Mastodon user named Kolya did to a section of Pepys’ entry for April 6, 1661, in which Pepys describes cornering and kissing a pretty barmaid.

Although disgust at his sexual proclivities is the subject of many social media users’ interactions with Pepys’ tweets and toots, some of his entries prove fertile ground for readers to self-identify with the diarist, usually in a self-deprecating manner. When it was posted on Twitter in 2023, the opening line of Pepys’ July 19, 1660, entry, which reads “I did lie late a-bed,” was answered by a litany of “Same,” “Me too,” and “Goals.”

Although these social media responses are generally nowhere near as deep or serious as the website comments (somewhat fittingly for Pepys, whose diary shows him to have been equally at home in high and low culture, from Magdalene College and the Navy Office to London’s seediest taverns and playhouses), each one still represents a moment of human connection with Pepys, whether it be one of self-recognition, disgust, or humour. And like the website comments, the social media interactions, at least those posted by public accounts, are just that, public, meaning they are by their very nature not an individual, introspective form of interaction with Pepys’ diary. 

When, in 1970, Paul Delany wrote of the “shocking experience” of realizing one’s own isolation that might strike readers of Latham and Matthews’s edition of Pepys’s diary, he was referring to how, in his view, the “fragmented, dissociated culture of modern capitalism” led to a “disappearance of a communal sense of life,” with the result that as individuals we are each left with “large realms of experience that only we have known” but can never share. As a “massive labour of introversion,” he continued, Pepys’s diary was an early-modern foretoken of the unsatisfying individualism that would dominate the 20th century.

Setting aside the question of whether interacting with Pepys’ diary entries online is necessarily satisfying, the fact that people still enthusiastically engage with and publicly reflect on Pepys’ daily exploits both on PepysDiary.com (which, according to site statistics Gyford shared in January 2024, garnered nearly 3,000 new comments in 2023 alone) and through social media channels is evidence that reading Pepys’ diary does not have to be an inherently lonely experience, despite what Delany predicted.

Every so often, commenters on PepysDiary.com are inspired to reflect on the fact that they themselves are embedded in history, that new readers may find details of their earlier comments nearly as alien as the unfamiliar details of Pepys’ 17th-century reality that the commenters spend so much time dissecting. In one comment left on April 28, 2024, a reader going by the name Keith Knight reflected upon the inclusion of the term “palm pilot” in a first-cycle reader’s comment from 2004. “Some younger people reading this now, only 20 years later,” he wrote, “wouldn’t know what this is, which highlights the issue of grappling with meaning of words and phrases from over 350 years ago.”

In other cases, readers found that reading about Pepys’ experiences helped them to process the global or personal high-stakes moments they were living through in the present day. In a May 2020 comment left on a diary entry dated August 12, 1665, during the deadliest days of the Great Plague of London, a reader named San Diego Sarah wrote of Pepys, “I now understand why he did not document more of the horrors. Like him, I look for diversions from the reality — I'm eating too much comfort food, while Pepys found his comfort in wine, women, and song.” 

Similarly, in September 2009, a commenter named Australian Susan responded to a September 6, 1666, entry in which Pepys described the great pleasure he enjoyed eating a simple meal just after the Great Fire of London was finally extinguished. “Sam describes a universal feeling I can relate to: the best meal I ever had in my life was the fry-up lunch my family ate at a greasy spoon near the Royal Liverpool Children’s Hospital after we had had the reassurance that there was nothing wrong with my young son’s heart. To know you have got through something safely and to share companionship and food brings a sense of relief and goodwill.” 

The longevity of PepysDiary.com, combined with its cyclical reading schedule, means that readers sometimes encounter past versions of their own selves. In 2013, one reader wrote of the comments, “They are just as much a diary of a time past as Sam’s is.” Because the annotations from previous reading cycles are preserved with each new round, new readers wishing to leave a comment are likewise confronted with previous cycles’ questions, answers, and musings, which must be scrolled through to reach the comment box. 

At least for some readers, the copiousness of 10- and 20-year old reader thoughts about Pepys is an enormous asset to the site. “The history captured in the annotations, especially those from 2003,” a new reader named 3Lamps wrote in March 2023, soon after the start of the third reading, “is as historically fascinating as the diary itself.”

The poet Dave Bonta, who has been using Pepys’ diary entries as material for erasure poems for more than a decade, has similarly expressed the sense that the collective project of reading and responding to Pepys’ diary online has produced something historically valuable. “Reading (or at least skimming) the copious and informative annotations left by readers ten years ago,” he wrote in an essay for the poetry blog Via Negativa, “gives me a sense of inhabiting three historical periods at once. The diary is no longer just about them, those far-away Englishmen and women of the 17th century; it’s also about us.”

Caroline Wazer is a writer, editor, and translator based in Central New York. She has written for outlets including Lapham’s Quarterly, The Atlantic, and Atlas Obscura

https://www.historynewsnetwork.org/article/peeping-on-pepys