The little ones and I spent this past week visiting our favorite Arizonians. It was like an early Christmas, despite the projectile vomiting and foregoing of daily naps. We survived the 6-hour car ride on rations of Chex Mix and Big Gulps. And of course, the only stations the radio seemed to pick up were playing non-stop Christmas music...seriously, how many versions of "The Little Drummer Boy" are there?
The best part of this week though (besides discovering Bahama Bucks and Cafe Rio)? I deleted my Facebook account.
Feel free to pin a golden star on my big girl shirt anytime.
This has kinda been a long-time coming. I've been going back and forth, but whenever I had my mouse hovering over the "Deactivate Account" button, this stupid little thing would pop up:
Pavlov's Dogs anyone?
I don't know what it is about virtual acknowledgment? I mean, I know my kids are adorable and that the photo I took of myself in the mirror looks AMAZING (because I purposefully cropped out my double-chin and frizzy hair), but somehow it's more validating when you know 24 people from your old high school pushed the thumbs-up icon.
I think I would end up developing an eating disorder if I stayed on Facebook too much longer. Not kidding. There is nothing that takes a punch to your self-esteem more than seeing one of your husband's ex-girlfriends posting a picture of herself running a friggin' marathon, while you're sitting on the couch...stalking Facebook...wishing you could run a marathon...and eating Oreo's. (I guess if this was the case, my eating disorder of choice would be binge-eating and purging...without the purging.)
Don't even get me started on status updates..."So proud of my three-year-old! He just learned how to ride a bike, count to 100, and speak Elvish...all in one day!"
My three-year-old still refers to himself in the third person and thinks chickens say, "Grrrrrr".
While I will indeed miss being able to see pictures of a friend's new baby, or an old co-worker's wedding day, or even things like Gagnam Style... I won't miss the compulsion. The compulsion to compare my worst to someone else's best. The compulsion to harshly judge my own life to the increasingly-falsified world of social media. The compulsion to live for the validity of a little red notification icon.
Deactivated!
Can I just say that I've had quite a few of my friends deactivate their accounts lately, too, and they talk about how freeing it is. I really should do it, and want to, but then I think of how convenient it is, especially with church stuff.
ReplyDeleteWay to go for actually doing it! I hope to follow in your footsteps one of these days! And then maybe I could focus on my blog...