The Facebook Breakdown: GTFO

I recently had a Facebook Breakdown.

My Facebook account was supposed to be a way for me to stay connected to my friends and family when I couldn't see them in person. Somewhere along the line, I lost sight of that and accepted friend requests from strangers and people I've never liked. Among these "friends" were people that judged my statements, like saying I needed a break from motherhood for 20 minutes or that I can't stand my next door neighbors. I found myself wishing I could voice my opinions as honestly as some of my friends, who seem confident and fearless in what they say online. But I was worried about what the deleted people would think about me once they saw we were no longer "friends." However. We don't talk now. I wouldn't go out of my way to talk to them if I saw them in public. So why were they on my friends list if they aren't my friends? Why should I provide them a window into my life? That should be a privilege that select few should get. There is just no room in my life for those who don't actually want to be there. 

Clearly, I'm not alone. Lots of people have clogged-up friends lists.

You could call what I did next a deleting spree. I started clicking unfriend left and right. From the aunt that judges my opinions to the guy that asked for my number 5 years ago--I had to show them the door. I went from a friends list with numbers in the 500s to one with less than 300. Still leaves me some people to get rid of--I'll save that for my next breakdown--but it was cathartic. 

After spending 22 years on this planet being worried about how what I say might affect or offend others, I finally saw the light. My life is my own; my voice is my own; and my Facebook page, which sounds trivial but is a reflection of who I am, is my own. Those that like me or find me (however slightly) interesting don't get hot and bothered when I curse or say I don't like the depressing feeling of Sunday nights. They don't mind when I post pictures of my husband and I kissing. They don't comment on pictures of my face--and my face only--with judgmental statements like, "It looks like you're not wearing any clothes here...please tell me I'm wrong." No, honey, you're right. I was naked as a jaybird. These folks would have a heart attack if they entered my home on a random day for 15 minutes. 

It's normal to want to be liked by everyone, but it's also unrealistic. Especially when you're as opinionated--wait, no, I like the word "vibrant" better--as me. 

It works by eliminating those who didn't like you to begin with.

I'd like to think that those who aren't completely put-off by my intense personality are really the ones worth knowing. Given the choice or normal or bizarre, you can bet I'd pick the weirdo any day. And if you're here, reading my shit (sorry, I had to weed more people out with that one), it's safe to say I like you, too. 

It took some courage to be honest about this. But the best things in life often require us to suck it up and be fearless for a minute, even if we have to fake it (orgasms, clearly, are not on this list).

Now, GTFO. ;)

Love, 

Deb