I decided to delete my Facebook accounts this morning and not wait until the end of the month. Since my decision last week to do so, I’ve felt lighter. While I wasn’t spending a lot of time or energy on the site, making the announcement on my business and personal pages made me realize how little anyone cared.
My intention with that statement isn’t to sound whiney and pitiful; it’s to bring to light a point: we’re connecting but not really connecting. I don’t know how many friends I had on Facebook when I deactivated my personal account – perhaps 400? Out of those 400 a half-dozen people connected with me on Instagram, Pinterest, or by text because they wanted to stay in touch.
I didn’t feel I needed to update my page every day for the amusement of others, but I know many people do, consciously or impulsively. I know (knew?) quite a few people who would update numerous times a day, sharing every update to their life like it needed to be recorded for some sort of census. As if we were all waiting on the other side of our screens like – ‘I wonder if Susan got her house cleaned for her holiday party this weekend!’
Admittedly, I haven’t made it a point to be involved in daily posts in the past year or so. I don’t know how people keep up with everyone online, their families in person, their jobs, their hobbies, and their health, without sacrificing one or more of the above. I’ve gone through a season of my life that was heavily social media based and a lot of the real-life things happening around me escaped my attention when they really needed it. What’s the point of visiting with friends you haven’t seen in forever only to be on your phone, scrolling to see what someone else is doing? Betcha they aren’t doing anything as awesome as you are right in that moment.
A lot of time is taken up by providing updates to people who wouldn’t pick up the phone to call to see how you’re doing. That’s not the main reason I decided to leave the website, but it’s a small part of the big picture. I mean, why would I spend the time catering to apathetic strangers online when I know my dad would love to talk to me over the phone and my time would be better spent doing that? If you died, who would show up at your funeral? Your close friends and family, with whom you’ve cultivated meaningful relationships with or Karen from your spin class, who only likes your gym check-ins?
I’m all set.