CAN YOU LIVE WITHOUT THE KARDASHIANS?

Smokes and booze are easier to quit than Facebook hating,

Rosa Lyster suggests some alternative obsessions to give up for Lent

LENT, as practised by those who are serious about it, is an important business. It is a time of searching moral inventory, six weeks of selfdenial, reflection, and prayer leading up to Easter Sunday. People give up all sorts of things: alcohol, social media, being cross. It’s supposed to be difficult, a trial of some kind. I saw a list of suggestions for what to give up for Lent 2016, and it included “cynicism”, “using the word ‘can’t’”, and “food”.

Lent, as practised by a person (hint: me) who is not religious but who has nevertheless got hold of these ideas somehow, is a less rigid affair. I deny myself something, but not to any kind of elevated spiritual purpose. I do it just to see if I can, and then I rub it in everyone’s faces. I have trained myself out of many bad habits this way. Smoking, for instance. Checking my phone a million times a day. One year I gave up forgetting to take vitamins. I’ve cheated a bit the last few years, and told myself that I am giving up shopping. This is not really an act of selfdenial, as I am pretty much constantly broke and thus have no money to go shopping with. This is called “making a virtue out of necessity”, and not the point at all. The whole idea is that it’s supposed to be difficult. Vitamins are disgusting. Smoking is amazing. Checking my phone a million times a day is a nearunbreakable habit. It’s supposed to be tough.

I gave quite a lot of thought to what I should give up this year. I considered giving up drinking, again, but there were too many parties to go to. My grandmother once told me that it is rude not to accept a glass of champagne if it is offered, and I have clung to this wisdom for many years now. I spent a few hours thinking that maybe I didn’t need to give up anything this year, because in fact I am perfect in every way. This did not last long.

The answer, I realised, was staring me in the face. This year, I needed to get a grip on what is easily my worst and most unattractive habit: spending hours looking at the Facebook profiles of people I do not like. I wrinkle my nose. I roll my eyes. I copy and paste the most irritating things they say, and send them in e-mails to my best friend with the subject line “OH PLEASE” or else “WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS”. Sometimes it’s not even things they say. Sometimes it’s photos, or links to articles I think are stupid. If I am in a certain mood, the wrong emoji can make me cross-eyed with contempt.

This is the big one. It is a nasty habit which is not even fun. It is at least only a little bit fun. Quite fun, actually. Fine: it is very fun indeed, but this is the main reason why I should stop. I am a grown-up, and long past the age where such pettiness is considered cute.

Giving it up would be taxing, I imagined, but absolutely worth doing. Would definitely make me a nicer person, which is really the goal in these endeavours. I did one last look at my favourites (the woman who takes every single thing that happens in the world and makes it about herself, the man who has too many opinions about Kim Kardashian, the anti-vaxxer, the person who seems to be in deep romantic love with their own house), and then unfollowed them all. Six weeks of only looking at the Facebook profiles of all the people I like. No scoffing. No rolling of the eyes or sending e-mails to my best friend with the subject line “Why does she like owls so much?” or “Why is he always on holiday in Europe? Where does he get all his money from? Suspicious.” No more. Come Easter Sunday I would be radiating a benign and saintly energy.

Would I recommend this? Of course. Is it good? Yes. I’d say that I was about three degrees nicer, during the period that I held out. Did I succeed? I did not. At the time of writing, Easter Sunday is still two weeks away. I cracked a few days ago. I lost focus for a few minutes and thought I wonder what she is up to, the woman who makes everything about herself, every single thing that has ever happened in the sorry history of the human race? I went over to her profile and that was it for me, I’m afraid — I was a goner. I haven’t looked back since.

This is bad. This elevates it to the status of a true vice. I gave up drinking for six weeks, no problem. Smoking, ditto. I take so many vitamins, now. I check my phone only on the hour. I had believed myself to be possessed of a strong will, but I was brought low by Facebook. It was no contest, really. I’ll try again next year.