Pulp is a student publication based at the University of Sydney.

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Confronting the Facebook Memories of my Twelve Year Old Self

Confronting the Facebook Memories of my Twelve Year Old Self

Words by Kelsey Harper

Let’s talk about the archive of all our worst nightmares, the treasure chest of pre-pubescent blackmail, the time machine designed to publicly shame and haunt us of the person we once were…
I’m talking about Facebook memories.
Why U.S senators haven’t interrogated Zuckerberg on the grounds of pure humiliation owing to Facebook memories I do not know. Surely, I’m not the only one feeling personally attacked by those dreaded morning notifications, which you just can’t help but click on. While personal reflection is very therapeutic and essential for aligning those chakras, pervasive reminders of ‘twelvie’ me are more mortifying than purifying. How can I satisfyingly judge the twelve-year olds of today when (despite relentless denial), I am forced to realise that I was exactly like them (minus the inclination to twerk and eat tide pods).

Thanks to an enriching European gap year and entrance into the fashion hub that is Sydney Uni, I shed the Supré tights and fluro rabens for ripped jeans and Nikes. But lo and behold not even two years in and I am undoing all the effort I put into recreating my uni image by divulging some of the dirtiest of dirt that FB has on me. Oh boy here we go.

  • I SWEAR I don’t shop at Supré anymore (but there’s nothing wrong with basics right?)
  • I SWEAR my literacy levels have somewhat increased since 2010 (also thank god for autocorrect)
  • I $WEAR I d0ntttt evaa TyPe Lyk Dis AnyMOre ! =] xxx.
  • But seriously, why were we obsessed with poor grammar, making words longer than they have to be, and random full stops and hyphens? I would truly love to know.

Oh the tragedy of ruining that sparkling ‘rep’…
I can confirm that there was no reputation to ruin (just in case you couldn’t tell from the use of “l o l JJ x J”).




When your crush busts out the Macarena on the other side of the hall at your year six disco and you’re too nervous to approach him even in the poppers and Smiths chips intermission.
Rough days being twelve eh?

Don’t lie, you loved Twilight too. Team Jacob Forever <3


Before the days of Instagram, VSCO and Snapseed, Picnik was the photo editing rage. I’m just glad to see that my photo shopping skills were as flawless as pre-ink J-Biebs. To complete this look, draw one black head band over your side fringe using Microsoft Paint and voilá, your destined for at least seven likes.


Sadly, this is my only ‘can relate’ moment so far. Hey student debt wassup?
And yes, there are many more “lol jk” Facebook statuses and memes buried deep within my 2011 archives.


Me: “I can’t believe what I was like last year”
Me that same year:


On another note, why would anyone else like your status if you’re not going to like it yourself?
So, thank you Facebook for the ‘On This Day’ memories; for reminiscing on the friends that I accepted 6 years ago that I never speak to, the dormant meme pages that I liked which have now all changed their names,  the conversations mediated by wall posts instead of DM’s and reminding me what it was like to be young, naïve and cringe-worthy. Thank you also for enlightening me on the kind of parent that I will be when I’m older, the kind that won’t let their child have Facebook until they are eighteen, so that they don’t follow in their mothers traumatic footsteps.  
But most of all thank you for the slow torture that I will endure daily as long as I have Facebook, shredding me of my dignity piece by piece. But if you can’t laugh at yourself, you’re taking yourself too seriously, and as indulge in reminiscence of my old Facebook activity feeling sorry for myself, I can’t help but wonder what future me will be regretting about my current social media use.  

Out of the classroom and into La Rambla

Out of the classroom and into La Rambla

Quote of the Week #9

Quote of the Week #9