Rethinking Facebook and its ‘reality’

The other day I was looking at my list of Facebook friends and wondered: If I died tomorrow, how many would actually come to the funeral? The truth is, most would not, and would, in fact, post about it the next day on Facebook: “OMG, did you hear about what happened to Rebecca?”

It’s not that I surround myself with heartless people who wouldn’t care if I died, but Facebook friends most often are not real friends. They are just an audience we keep at arm’s length to stroke our own egos with their “likes” and comments. We do the same in turn for them.

So why devote my time and energy to “friends” who sort of exist, but sort of do not?

Staying in touch means that person is a part of your life. You talk to them. You see them. You know their middle name. Being on Facebook takes me down the fast track to being nosey, judgmental and competitive, but I rationalize those harsh things by saying “It’s nice to stay in touch.”

I often catch myself scrolling through Facebook filled with jealousy at vacations others take or judgment at choices I wouldn’t make or opinions I don’t have.

I click on some photos and suddenly find myself so far in the rabbit hole that I’m now nosing through their entire photo album, often with people I haven’t seen in decades. I would not go into their homes and leaf through their personal photos, so why do I feel entitled to do so online?

This is the exact opposite of what I deem a good use of my time on earth.

I don’t use Facebook only as a means to fan the fires of my unhealthy jealousy, nosiness and judgment. I actually do like knowing people from my past are still out there making their way in the world. It’s fun to see that the buddy I had in sixth grade is now a successful real estate agent, or the ex-boyfriend who dumped me turned out to be someone I wouldn’t want to be with anyway.

This quiet validation is a fun bonus of Facebook; I can’t lie.

The raw, honest truth is I do look to Facebook for affirmation. My Facebook friends are cheerleaders, put firmly in place to tell me how awesome I am. I worked out today, and my Facebook friends gave me the thumbs up! I saw a donkey at the hardware store, and they loved it! I made dinner! I get credit and acknowledgment just for merely existing, and who wouldn’t love that self-absorbed adulation?

When I let it, Facebook does give me a sense of comradery. When I see my high school friends turning gray or struggling with raising their kids just like I do, I have a feeling of connection — as false as it may be — that we are all going through the same thing.

What bothers me the most is that Facebook has begun to suck out the intention and authenticity of moments in my life. I can’t take a photo of a sunset just for my personal enjoyment — I must share and get instant cyber pats on the back for it, so much so that I have not savored the moment that just passed.

I want to focus more on the real people in my life, the people who know all the imperfect edges of me. I want to quietly love my kids without announcing it to cyber friends who will never come over and see it for themselves.

This note from Carolyn Reams Smith speaks for itself.

“The keyboard, for youngsters who have learned typing by trial and error, is not so much an instrument of thinking as it is a gateway to other activities.

“Cursive writing, on the other hand, is an instrument of thinking — one that has few distractions. Once a student has cursive skill, that great trio — the pen, the hand, and the page — activates the brain and offers opportunities for storytelling, organizing, self-reflecting, and critical thinking.

“Cursive writing prompts reading . ... Ohio wants to guarantee that students can read by third grade. One step in that direction is to have them write more. Developing literacy is a thoughtful process.

“Teach young students cursive to give them a calmer, flowing process for reading, writing, and thinking. Their brains and our world will benefit.”