At the start of this year, I made a couple resolutions - one of which involved making a genuine effort at privatizing my life, being a better friend and listener, and learning to have better human relationships instead of the ones we're so accustomed to on the Internet. Unfortunately, Facebook fits absolutely nowhere when it comes to accomplishing this. But Lauren, you could keep Facebook and just stop posting stuff about your life, you know. Yes, I could. But here's what else I'm failing on every time I open up my Facebook account at work, in line at Chipotle, or waiting at that red light - I'm learning all about YOUR life without having to have a single conversation with you about it. Doesn't that bother you? That you're telling everyone all about the details of your relationship, adulthood trials and tribulations and about your child's first baseball game without anyone even having to put forth the effort to ask you about it? If it doesn't bother you, maybe it should.
Having access to my life, private or public, is not your God given right. Before social media, you had to earn someone's trust and respect before you got the dirty details of the job they hate or access to those precious newborn or wedding photos. You had to call them on the phone, meet for coffee, or speak face to face in order to solidify a solid relationship with people. Now, we're giving it away for free. Our first instinct is to check-in, post a photo of it, and tell everyone about that hilarious thing your kid did today. I'm so guilty of it. And quite frankly, I don't know that I have the will power to continue having an account without posting those fun tidbits about my life.
Don't get me wrong, Facebook isn't all bad. It's given us a great opportunity to keep in touch with people we wouldn't normally be able to see, to stay updated on what long distance family members are up to, and it's essentially eliminated the need for me to attend high school reunions (a major win in my book). I just think we're being awfully cavalier about the personal details of our lives. I don't care where you went to dinner. I don't need to know that you got your tax return. I don't need to know the dirty details of your pregnancy - and I sure as hell don't need to know about it in the form of a four-line status infiltrated with bad grammar and punctuation. What I want to know about is who you are. Who you are when no one is looking, how you feel about your first six months of marriage, the fight you still routinely have with your parents and how having kids has 100% changed your marriage and it scares you to death. And guess what? All of those things belong in a real life, breathing conversation. Not on the Internet.
So I encourage you to still reach out to me. I'll still be making a genuine effort at reaching out to you, too. I may not see every single picture you post of your dog, or where your husband took you for dinner last night, but I still very much care about the people most important to me, and it's for that reason alone that I'm making a valid effort at having better human relationships. You'll probably see me more, and hear from me less. And I hope to know more about your life from your own mouth, and not from the personality you portray on the Internet.
Consider it my social experiment, and my heartfelt attempt at bettering my own life by doing something that, believe it or not, is actually difficult to do. I love love love utilizing Facebook to advocate for the Humane Society of Greater Dayton and to post photos and information on adoptable animals, so I will inevitably be back at some point. But a break is always good.
Also, I still have Twitter and Instagram. I got rid of Facebook, but I'm not dead. Come on.
