My Twitter Affair Confession

My newlywed husband suspects I’m cheating on him. He’s right, you know.  

Who’s the (other) lucky fella? He’s a mailman. So cliché.

That “140-character-mailman” is at my fingertips whenever I feel the urge to connect. After more than 9,522+ encounters during our 24-month-affair, I still get jitters when I get his alerts. I have still not lost my zest for my blue-feathered friend, Twitter.

I don’t have any Twitter-wooing advice for you today. I’m not going to tell you how to maximize your reach. Or, how to grow your followers. Not even the proper RT formula. Instead, I want you to fall in love with Twitter.

Therefore, I’m going to answer three questions I’ve been asked about our love story.

1.    Was it love at first tweet?

Absolutely not. I spent the first six months of our relationship dreading every moment I spent with him on Tweetdeck. Everyone says those initial months are the hardest. They were right!

2.    How did you fall in love?

Sometimes a virulent relationship sweetens over time. I remember the first time I turned to Twitter as an escape from my day job, instead of my thrice daily obligation. One of my tweets had gone “viral” with three RTs and one @Mention! I felt that adrenaline rush through my fingers as I scrolled through my stream. My online extrovert emerged.

3.    How do you keep the flame alive?

All relationships have their ups and downs. So goes my affair with Twitter. Some days, I can’t keep my mind off those freshly updated streams in Tweetdeck. Other days, I begrudgingly load up my Buffer dashboard.

Overall, Twitter and I get along most of the time. He disappoints me when he fails to block those spambots with bios, “I FOLLOW BACK!” And I sometimes upset him when I get overambitious in my unfollowing purges on ManageFlitter. But, we make up and move on.

I hereby confess my polyamorous shadow—after my husband, Twitter is a close second.

Do you have a wandering eye? Which social suite keeps you mesmerized? Just leave a comment or tweet me @MindiRRosser.