One of the most empowering things I’ve ever done was to shut down my Facebook.
I didn’t delete it. Nor did I remove myself from it. I simply uninstalled it from my cell phone. I’m so glad I did. I recovered several lost hours weekly. And I was surprised to learn how much I long for face-to-face relationships despite my introverted misgivings.
Some of the best and worst experiences I’ve had in life were somehow related or linked to Facebook.
I’ve taken much in stride; yet, Facebook holds the record of being the only social media outlet ever to bring me to tears because of what someone else said directly to me. And I’ve noticed that what is typed in print, directed to me personally, somehow hurts so much more than if the speaker had said the same to my face.
Facebook has become a hateful place where politics display their ‘terrible twos’; where families show complete disregard for one another. Once upon a time, Facebook was a place to connect — now, most of what I see is the ashen remains of once strong bridges.
A wife was told to leave her spouse and return to her family for ‘re-education’. Publicly. On Facebook.
Brothers deleted one another and apparently no longer speak. Because of a disagreement over politics. I don’t want to know what this looks like over Christmas dinner…
I saw greed’s green eyes through heated name calling amid arguments over DAPL, health benefits and women’s rights.
And I vomited — actually vomited upon reading my newsfeed’s coverage of the latest racially charged, bigoted trends…
I’ve personally witnessed so much hurt…
There is still plenty of good to be found on Facebook. This is just one woman’s opinion — my experience, as is. My choice to say ‘Eff no!’ to -sweeping gesture over expanse of FB- whatever the hell this is…
So I take a graceful bow.
Check it. And then double check it all.
I’m still here. But tomorrow, I’ll have to spend 5 minutes on your page trying to get a feel for who and how you really are. That’s not social media. It definitely ain’t Facebook. That’s love. That’s value. And it’s time I returned it.
I need this silent stillness. I need to reach out and touch someone.