After four years of usage, 440 or
so “friends” made, 100+ photo albums created, dozens of events hosted, and
innumerable inane status updates posted, I have deactivated my Facebook. It was
with much grief that I said goodbye to countless CastleVille requests,
Christian Mingle side-bar ads, and the ability to wish people I wouldn’t
recognize in person “happy birthday!” There is one less Scott Jackson out there
on the interwebs. I am Facebook free.
Of course, there are aspects of
Facebook I really do miss. I enjoyed knowing what my friends from back home are
up to, and I even occasionally interacted with them beyond just stalking. I
planned and went to my fair share of events. I miss the ability to share and
comment on photos that hold so many fond memories. And, really, who doesn’t
cherish the ability to instantly garner an audience of potentially hundreds for
any thought that pops into your head?
Facebook is an incredibly powerful
forum for communication and connection. Officially, over one billion people now
use the online service. Facebook has become a prime symbol for globalization envisioning
a world in which we all are connected. At its best, Facebook serves as a
platform for creative expression, reconnection, dialogue, collective action, encouragement,
organization and humor. Facebook can be an imaginative tool for interaction and
sharing life together.
But it was killing me. Every time I
logged onto Facebook, I felt the life slowly sucked out of me. I couldn’t
handle it. Despite all the supposed and real benefits mentioned above, I
ultimately concluded that on the whole Facebook was detrimental for my academic,
social, emotional and spiritual health.
Facebook
is a huge time waster. Just going on for a short homework break inevitably
turned into going through every new status update, creeping through peoples’
photos, or just staring blankly at the page hitting refresh.
I found myself living for that
little red flag in the upper left. My self-worth became equated with the number
that flag contained. All I wanted on Facebook was to be “liked.” I wanted to be
loved, admired, pitied; everything was about me. I carefully crafted every
comment, post, subtitle, and event in order to gain attention. I didn’t want to
do this. I didn’t want to constantly be self-seeking, but I couldn’t stop.
Facebook
brought out the worst in me. I became jealous, callous and judgmental. Sitting
in my room by myself, it seemed like everyone else was out having a grand time.
When others rejoiced, I did not celebrate with them. And when others suffered,
I did not empathize with them. Facebook was not about caring for people but for
gaining juicy new pieces of information. I passed judgment on the whole
character of a person based on mere hundreds of characters posted online.
Facebook
isn’t real. It’s a game. It’s a social front. My Facebook profile was a
construction of my imagination rooted in how I wanted others to perceive me and
designed to hide my fears, anxieties and weaknesses. Facebook did not reflect my story, and it
hindered me from caring about other people and their story.
For my own sanity, I needed to get
rid of it. Yet, I think, Facebook can be redeemed. I think Facebook can be used
to love on other people, to share the joys and sorrows in life, and to connect
with people in real life. But, I think, I am probably not the only one for whom
Facebook has been more life-draining than life-giving. If Facebook is a burden
in your life, let it go for a time. Be set free.
Funny.. I deactivated my account on Friday for the purpose of minimizing distraction for the huge workload of this weekend. And now I'm thinking I might let it stay that way for a while, maybe a long while. I appreciate these honest words so very much Scott
ReplyDeleteThanks, Grace. It's interesting, with facebook gone, it so clear how unnecessary it is. Of course, the challenge becomes pursuing authentic relationships in real life which is both scary and beautiful and requires so much more vulnerability... and fb isn't the real problem, it's merely a tool, but a tool that the devil used to feed my sinfulness and cloud my vision... and so I think the real freedom comes not in deleting an online account but in pursuing an authentic relationship with God, resting in His abundant grace which is both scary and beautiful and requires so much more vulnerability than coasting through life pretending I have it all put together...
ReplyDeletewow, maybe I should write another blog post haha