Facebook. Facebook. Facebook. Facebook Feast.
(This Facebook post is about my personal Facebook account. Not the group activity with those Fab and Fit ladies who Coach leads. )
I avoided Facebook like the plague. I did not see its value. How the heck did people have 500 plus friends? I didn’t know, or truthfully, like 50 people.
I have a Facebook theory. Facebook gained massive popularity when I was in my early thirties. At that time many of us early thirty somethings experienced the shell shock from our new lives with marriage, families, careers, etc.
We had a white-knuckle grip on the familiar past. The post traumatic stress of parenthood, shaky marital relations, and the death of the good old days, which led to virtual high school reunions, EX stalking, and resulted in 100’s of “friends”. Insatiable curiosity overpowered blocking, unfollowing, ignoring, and not giving a hoot about the past.
Me, on the other hand, I was in the throws of my personal Great Purge. I was a whole different kind of crazy. I tried to expunge my past. Since I was kicking people out of my tangible life why would I keep them in a virtual one? I had no desire to see what other people were doing. I wanted no part of social anything. Reading a book with the covers over my head was my speed. I’m not saying that was a healthy approach either.
I was on Facebook for a little while. I got mad at the world and got off without a word. My husband convinced me to create a joint account. It was OK.
Over the years I stopped being so misanthropic and I began to enjoy looking at pictures of my friend’s kids. I started commenting here and there.
I eventually divorced my husband on Facebook. I got my own account. I have 99 friends. 99 people who are in my life, or who I wish were in my life a little more. Will I ever break 100? I don’t care. I have come along way. I found my place in Facebook. My meager Facebook Feast. Facebook Likes? Don’t get me started on “Likes”. That’s
a whole other post!