⚠️ Why I Love BeReal ⚠️

It's because people like me haven't ruined it yet.

Today’s BeReal. Forgive the mess behind me: I was being REAL

BeReal is the latest app in the line-up of things we don’t need but somehow can’t quit.

I’m charmed by it. I feel old using BeReal, an app that is popular with teenagers (read: children) and college students. I’m like, 80 percent sure of how it works, but it’s fun. (I actually laughed out loud writing that just now. Going through this, I’m cringing, imagining myself as a mom writing about how great Facebook is in 2012 — but whatever. It’s a draft! That’s what we’re here for!)

OK, so if you don’t know BeReal: the app pushes a once a day alert, giving you two minutes to take a photo in that moment, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing. The theory is everyone is posting at the same time, highlighting your day. (You can post late – it just tags your picture as such.)

Critically, you also have a front facing camera on; the posts look like a freeze frame from FaceTime. No matter how pretty (or not) you look, it’s going on the feed. Hence, you’re being real. No filters, no warning signs. Like an earthquake, you know it’s coming, and you just have to hope it doesn’t strike when you’re on the toilet.

BeReal still feels untouched by the cesspool of influencers and brands: there’s only a smaller group of friends that I follow. There is one person in my feed who I have never met, a friend of friends, but I think he’s smart and a hunk so, sure, I’ll see what he looks like with a front-facing camera when he’s at Pieces in the West Village, or wherever.

All the photos disappear after 24 hours. But, you’re able to see what you’ve posted each day since you’ve downloaded the app, a feature only available to you, the user. It’s like a diary, saving these micro-moments for each day. I find myself clicking back and seeing what I posted through the weeks, a time capsule for myself and no one else. There is a simple pleasure in creating content (eye roll) on an app without planning it, and saving it for me.

The feed is based on the times people post – just like Instagram was back in the day — and how quickly. There’s no place that is pushing me to “discover” shit I have no interest in. And it doesn’t push me content (I’m getting really sick of that word) that I haven’t signed up for (read: signaled I’ll watch through an algorithm.)

Most importantly – using BeReal doesn’t stress me out. I work in social media and content (again, that word). It’s impossible to escape. I do like TikTok but the algorithm is so wildly accurate, I find it quickly turns into wasted time and who knows what is happening with my shared data. Instagram makes me angry, whether through DMs I receive or ads telling me I’m supposed to buy jockstraps. (I did, by the way. I don’t look like the ad.)

BeReal feels like a space that is still pure and messy, untouched by capitalism and elections and insurrections.

It’s only a matter of time before brands start getting involved, because that’s what happens. And that’s fine. I have no idea what the angle will be (push ads? Needing to watch a video before you post?), but ultimately, we know it will come. And it will be because people with jobs like mine are sitting in rooms trying to figure out how to use that information you’re sharing to get you to buy something. (Say, a jockstrap.)

If we’ve learned anything, these free products aren’t free. We pay for them with ourselves: our time, our attention, our information, our dollars. At best, it’s just a reality of life in 2022; at worst, we’re paying with our sanity, health, democracy, and so on. Who can say where it will go.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying to look cute and waiting for that alert, and hope that I can keep this little moment in time to look back on, when something on the Internet was, quite simply, fun.