On one hand, I feel socially connected there. I know what's going on in the lives of my friends near and (most especially) far away. I've reconnected with childhood friends and distant family. I see photos of them, their family and the places they go. It's kind of awesome that way - like a Christmas photo card with the update letter enclosed 365 days a year.
Then there's the flipside. I admit I don't especially care about what people eat and I'm not really interested in their workout progress (though I totally get the motivation behind those posts). I've had to eliminate certain people from my newsfeed just because they post every.single.thing.they do and, between that and the new super-annoying 'news' content (ads) Facebook interjects into the feed, I can't ever trudge through all that. Plus I can get weary of the overly zealous sides of fences people stand on, and certainly my heart has broken on the occasions when I learn that someone has hateful feelings toward another entire group of people. I'm still a little kid that way, and I wish everybody could just be nice.
But funny enough, those annoyances aren't what make me want to break up with Facebook. It's the part where everyone's life looks so damn happy and shiny. Kids going to their first day of the new school year with Mom AND Dad in tow. Couples out on dates smiling into their phones for selfies. A close-knit, cut-out-of-cream-cheese looking group of friends posting yet another FABulous night out. Super moms posting their latest success in business, followed by an outing with the family, followed by a fabulous workout report, followed by a 'date night' photo with the hubby - all in one day.
It's that part of Facebook that makes me feel socially disconnected. We don't have any of that, me and D. We're not like everybody else! Once more, I'm the weird kid... just like in Jr. High School. Why can't I just be like everyone else?
We don't have the Dad in tow for ANYthing. He's never come to Dia's school - or anything of Dia's for that matter. So that's out. My selfies are just the 'self' part. I don't have that plus one to take a selfie with. So THAT's out.. I don't belong to a group of friends and regardless I can't afford regular babysitting if I did. So nothing there. AND I'm the furthest thing from a super mom. Even if I do 'do it all,' the rub is I don't do it all well. I mean, it's a good day when I manage to get Dia to school on time.
It's that old Green-Eyed Monster... No, I'm not talking about me - and my eyes are gray anyway... No, I mean jealousy of course. Or envy (is there a difference?). Or just a mean case of IwishIhadthatitis.
Truth is I don't wish anything BUT happiness and success and a wonderful, loving family for my friends. When my friends suffer a loss or aren't leading fulfilling lives, I feel it too and my instinct is to fix it for them. I don't secretly revel in the fact that, for now, I have it better. Nor am I ever trying to win the 'whose life is worse' challenge. I never want to win that and I don't like pity. It's just that there IS this big void in me. And I do feel like I'm an outsider. Like I don't fit in. Plus there's this part that wishes that I'd done it better I guess. That I'd chosen better? That I could have been sharing the past 20 years with that person that has my back, that loves me as is, that walks hand-in-hand through life with me and wants to take ridiculous selfies in restaurants. Most especially I wish that Dia could have had that - that which Tim and Chey lost early on as well. Ah, guilt. Regret. Such glorious feelings.
It's not ALL Facebook's fault. It's not that those feelings aren't always there and it's not that I can't have down days and mini pity parties all by myself without Facebook's help. It's just that Facebook puts a magnifying glass on it. It gives a weird rose-colored lens to everyone's life. And though I'm old and wise enough to call bullshit on half of it... (we don't exactly air how pissed we are at our significant others, or how we just lost our shit on our kids for no reason, or how bad work sucks today (That's what blogs are for, huh?)) ... it's a little like watching a romantic comedy. You know, logically, nothing ever happens like that. Nothing's so black and white, so perfect-in-the-end, so shiny and happy. Yet there's a part of you that allows yourself to believe in the perfection, if only for a moment, and that's what catches me up.
Oh, Facebook. Perhaps you'll ruin yourself with all the ads (oh, I mean 'news') and we'll all have to resort to SnapChat or Vine or Instagram or (God forbid) calling each other. Besides I just read one of your articles and it said how wonderful being over-40 is, what with all the confidence we have in ourselves at this age. So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.
