It’s the strangest thing really. When you go to delete your profile you get a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Gosh – will I survive this? Will I exist without this in my life? Will I be OK if I do this? That sinking feeling that just confirms I have an unhealthy connection to this virtual existence. That I don’t know who I am unless I know what people are doing, where they are and with whom, and if, in turn, they know what I am doing and ‘like’ it, or at the very least – envy it. Yes, that is the sad reality that is life in 2015. 6 years ago when I signed on to facebook for the first time that wasn’t the case, the 24yrs I lived prior to facebook was also not like that. Back then, I relied on good old stories from people I was still in contact with to find out what people were up to, and if I didn’t know so-and-so got married I didn’t care. But that is not the existence my children will have. They have grown up watching mom on her phone checking people’s status’ and standing over a bowl of half-poured-cereal posting pictures of their latest birthday cake or a family event so everyone would know what adorable kids she has. I admit I have missed out on eye contact just because I wanted facebook to know what I was up to. And that’s about to stop. I am bout to start living life the way it was intended, in the present, with actual people around you. Not virtual friends, not connections from the past that you forgot long ago (for a reason!)
I am forfeiting my facebook persona (along with my twitter account) and getting my time back. Time to write, to blog, to be creative, to read. To have the chance to form ideas and thoughts that are entirely my own and not a copy of something I have seen elsewhere or read. And I am going to get back to engaging with my family and my REAL friends, and finding out how their lives are over a real conversation and a cup of tea rather than through a newsfeed. But I am a certified facebook addict and they say addicts are always addicts so I will have to keep myself in check. I’m sure when my children want to start having their own accounts I will once again become tempted to step into virtual reality, but it’s here again I feel the strong sense that I must lead by example. That I must show them that an existence on facebook does not equal an existence as a human. That the human interactions we have every day and the really important things we preoccupy ourselves with are what matter, not what so-and-so said about such-and-such. I want them to form their own opinions before they decide to be bombarded by what everyone around them thinks.
I am overcome with fear as I do it. All the things I’ll miss out on, all the things I won’t know. It’ll be like everyone around me is walking around with access into an elite social club and I’m not cool enough. FOMO kicks in (Fear Of Missing Out). I also think…should I announce it to people? Should I let people know that this is the end of the road for me? That I am signing off for good. Surely they have a right to know – to be sad for my (and their) loss. Perhaps we’ll have a moment of silence. But they will probably judge the sentiment, and spin me as some weirdo so I won’t do that afterall. I’ve decided to slip away quietly. Like I never existed. Like vanishing from all eternity. Only that’s the lie isn’t it? That’s what facebook would like you to believe, and yes that is what society in general is telling you. But once my account is deleted, I will still be here. In the flesh. I will be alive and breathing and thinking and I won’t have ceased all cognitive functions. I will be OK. I am enough. My family is enough. My life, just as it is, is enough. I do not need to plaster it on status updates for it to be more important, or more wonderful than it is right now, when only I know about it. My children’s births, birthdays, first days of school, missing teeth and broken hearts will not feel less real not published for all to see. Our holidays and travels will be just as special. And instead of taking selfies in cool places just so people will know we were there, we’ll just enjoy being there. Right there. In the moment. And only we’ll know how truly amazing it was. And that is enough.
I can do this. I can take the plunge. I can be enough. For myself and for my kids, and for my husband. Just as I am. Before facebook I had a life. And now, 6 years later, I am getting back to living it.
Side note* I completely went off facebook for 3 months after writing this post, and then accidentally (while logging onto pinterest) re-activated it. I am now keeping myself in check like an addict who attends AA meetings. Some days I am better than others, but I have vowed to my kids I won’t relapse.
I am forfeiting my facebook persona (along with my twitter account) and getting my time back. Time to write, to blog, to be creative, to read. To have the chance to form ideas and thoughts that are entirely my own and not a copy of something I have seen elsewhere or read. And I am going to get back to engaging with my family and my REAL friends, and finding out how their lives are over a real conversation and a cup of tea rather than through a newsfeed. But I am a certified facebook addict and they say addicts are always addicts so I will have to keep myself in check. I’m sure when my children want to start having their own accounts I will once again become tempted to step into virtual reality, but it’s here again I feel the strong sense that I must lead by example. That I must show them that an existence on facebook does not equal an existence as a human. That the human interactions we have every day and the really important things we preoccupy ourselves with are what matter, not what so-and-so said about such-and-such. I want them to form their own opinions before they decide to be bombarded by what everyone around them thinks.
I am overcome with fear as I do it. All the things I’ll miss out on, all the things I won’t know. It’ll be like everyone around me is walking around with access into an elite social club and I’m not cool enough. FOMO kicks in (Fear Of Missing Out). I also think…should I announce it to people? Should I let people know that this is the end of the road for me? That I am signing off for good. Surely they have a right to know – to be sad for my (and their) loss. Perhaps we’ll have a moment of silence. But they will probably judge the sentiment, and spin me as some weirdo so I won’t do that afterall. I’ve decided to slip away quietly. Like I never existed. Like vanishing from all eternity. Only that’s the lie isn’t it? That’s what facebook would like you to believe, and yes that is what society in general is telling you. But once my account is deleted, I will still be here. In the flesh. I will be alive and breathing and thinking and I won’t have ceased all cognitive functions. I will be OK. I am enough. My family is enough. My life, just as it is, is enough. I do not need to plaster it on status updates for it to be more important, or more wonderful than it is right now, when only I know about it. My children’s births, birthdays, first days of school, missing teeth and broken hearts will not feel less real not published for all to see. Our holidays and travels will be just as special. And instead of taking selfies in cool places just so people will know we were there, we’ll just enjoy being there. Right there. In the moment. And only we’ll know how truly amazing it was. And that is enough.
I can do this. I can take the plunge. I can be enough. For myself and for my kids, and for my husband. Just as I am. Before facebook I had a life. And now, 6 years later, I am getting back to living it.
Side note* I completely went off facebook for 3 months after writing this post, and then accidentally (while logging onto pinterest) re-activated it. I am now keeping myself in check like an addict who attends AA meetings. Some days I am better than others, but I have vowed to my kids I won’t relapse.
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