Why I deleted Facebook
Sometimes self-control is not enough. Sometimes you have to carefully position your own roadblocks to force saner living.
With the press of an “x”, I dismissed the vitriol that had become my daily breakfast, lunch and dinner. Not only have I found myself pining for past Republic administrations that now don’t “seem that bad”, I have also started missing those adorable cat videos and those pumped-up versions of themselves that people like to have us believe is true about their fabulous Facebooked lives.
I miss the tinge of envy I’d feel at pictures of palm trees in places I definitely was not.
I miss the giggles elicited from videos of furry animals, preferably baby ones, tumbling on top of each other.
I miss hoping someone will “like” my post because they like me.
I miss the Facebook I used to know that I’d sometimes playfully call “Fakebook” because we often use it to look better than we are.
But we have entered a new era now. Many of us have become activists, something I truly applaud. And what better way to broadcast sensible causes than the world’s largest online platform?
Unfortunately, there is a flip side to it. Facebook, in my view, has turned into a shouting match, a place of posturing and yes, at times, a platform to share invaluable information. But the more I’ve tried to digest the unfathomable messages, especially from politicians vying for fame and glory, the less I began to trust it as a source for anything real or true or good about this world.
What motivated me to finally hit the delete button on my iPhone app came after reading a post by a Kentucky Senator who mocked the women’s march, calling women “cute” in the most patronizing way possible.
In his eagerness to earn likes and commentary (at any cost, I might add), he has joined the legions of people who will do and say anything to attract attention. It is so sad.
A like is even more short-lived than a soap bubble on a hot July afternoon. It is meaningless if there are only words without positive action behind them.
It broke my heart to see how broken our system truly is.
Fighting against virtual reality is like trying to capture wind in your hands.
What could I possible do then, in the face of such powerlessness, to make a difference?
Then it hit me. I have invested so much time in conversations with people I don’t even know. What if I were to start conversations with the ones I do know? What if I were to reach out to someone in need, right here, right now, in front of my very eyes? What if I were to dedicate all the time I have spent clucking at the injustice online to a cause in my very own town? Not only would I feel better, but that person would too.
So that decides it. Less Facebook. More face time. In real life.
Yes, a new era has dawned and I am ready to take on the challenge. Will you join me?