Dear Facebook,
It’s not you, it’s me. No, never mind that. It’s you.
You were only in my life a few years, and yet it feels like there was never a point where you weren’t there. I mean, there was, of course. Back in the day there was a time where I couldn’t pull out my phone and instantly inform 300 people that I was going to McDonald’s for lunch. Or when I could hang out with some friends and not instantly find myself tagged in photos, red Solo cup in hand with a too-wide grin on my face, not quite looking at the camera. Those were good days, weren’t they?
Back then I didn’t have 300 friends. I couldn’t have kept up with them. Imagine what life would have been like if every ten seconds someone was calling to inform me that they were going to a football game, or they had run into a wall while trying to avoid tripping on the dog, or they had a sudden epiphany about what that creepy Christmas song, “Baby It’s Cold Outside” was about. A month after Christmas.
That would have been completely impractical, huh?
But you took care of that, didn’t you Facebook? Hell yeah, you did. All of a sudden, I could be friends with everyone I worked with, and everyone I went to school with. EVER. In my life. And I could be made aware of every little detail of their lives, while sharing way too much of my own.
We had some good times, yeah? I mean, there was always that thought in the back of my mind whenever you updated your privacy policies, or when you’d rearrange the homepage. Yet. Again. Or the way my friends’ posts were displayed. Or when you stopped asking me what was on my mind and started asking “How are you feeling, Sara?”
That was a bit odd. It made me feel a bit uncomfortable, really. Like when you’re wearing a name tag somewhere and that creepy guy insists on addressing you by name with every statement that he makes. Yeah. Not so cool, Facebook.
But I digress. While you did help me keep up with people I hadn’t seen or talked to in years, these weren’t the most substantial means of communication. Liking a photo or status isn’t difficult, after all. Not to mention, I discovered that some of my friends had… very different views of the world. And while that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Facebook, you seem to be an instigator. Almost taunting us to argue back and forth in comments, where everyone could see, and then join in, and then watch as even the most intelligent of discussions quickly became examples of Godwin’s law in action.
And really, all of those friends that I had? I’m going to guess that I didn’t even know who fifteen percent of them were. So that’s a bit weird. Sort of like when you’re having a party and there’s people there that none of the invited guests knows who they are. I guess that’s my fault, for accepting friend requests from strangers, though.
Mostly though, Facebook, you just wasted my time. Showing me photos and videos, giving me more information than I could every possibly need about so many people. Then you added games into the mix, and my time was wasted both in playing them until I reached complete boredom, as well as blocking every single application that sent an invitation from a friend.
So yeah, Facebook, the time has come for us to part ways. In the past I could only disable my account, but now you’ve graciously given me the option of deleting it. And in one week, when you realize that I’m really not coming back, our trial separation will be over, and we’ll be done.
So, so long, Facebook. It’s been real, or something like it.
*Applauding enthusiatically*
I went straight for “delete” as well. It’s been 75 days, and I have not regretted it once.
I immediately took away the Facebook button from my bookmarks bar, but I’ll admit to having typed out the address out of habit. Haven’t logged in though. It’s really not that hard living without it.
I haven’t deleted Facebook, but then mine is very restricted. I only have it to see photos of my grand child who lives too far to see more than now and then, and one friend who also lives too far away to visit with regularly.
Yeah, I couldn’t restrict my Facebook or cull that crazy friends list without upsetting some people, and I didn’t want to deal with that. But my immediately family all live very close so it’s far more feasible than if they were still distant.
I applied for my facebook account using the last name I was born with (I was adopted by a step father at age 2) rather than my real last name. That’s helped to keep people from finding me
That is rather genius. I have a friend who used his middle name rather than his last name.
That’s a good idea too, I never thought of that.
Good for you!!! I’ve often wished I could do this. But I’m too chicken.
For me, the negatives of Facebook started to outweigh the positives. And I was getting into far too many politically-charged arguments. But yeah, until I actually did it, it was incredibly daunting. Now that I’ve done it, every time I think about it I can’t help smiling. It’s weird.
I miss seeing you on Facebook. But still. Good for you
I may eventually go back. But under an alias. Like Princess Consuela Bananahammock, so no one will ever know it’s me.