I actually had to get out of bed to write this because I feel so light by the pure simplicity of making this decision that I couldn't wait.
I have had so much fun at Facebook. I've LOVED reading everyone's funny posts and seeing amazing photos of you and your children there-having a one stop shop to share my work and see yours in a fraction of the time it would take me to go to each of your blogs or websites, or email you to get an update, or wait for your newsletter to come through.
I have enjoyed reading your recipes, having long threads of ongoing jokes with you, receiving your friend requests and planning dates with you there. I've loved reading your comments about the funny things my children say and do, and I've loved commenting on your posts and videos.
I've had a whirlwind love affair with you all through Facebook and Twitter. But I have to tell you I'm so excited to delete my account, so that I can get on with living my life in the way I feel strongly pulled to do so.
At first, I balked at myself because this time of year doesn't make the best sense to pull out of a gigantic conversation where I can sell you my artwork for holiday gifts and tell you all about my newest Etsy listings. But as I began the conversation with myself, I literally became giddy with all of the things I envisioned I could do with my time instead of...networking and connecting in warp time.
Facebook and, less so, Twitter, so innocent and sweet in the beginning, have become a major time suck for me. I commented to this defector yesterday, when I read her announcement that she was leaving: "What a great idea! One set of social media claws will release their hold on you!" Note that I didn't really put it together that I could unleash myself just as easily.
Shortly thereafter I wondered, if that's what it really feels like, then what the hell am I still doing on here?! And the answer for me was a fear of being disconnected from many of you. Because social media is so quick and easy, I didn't want to be forgotten by you, and I didn't want to forget to check in with you. Which I will, because I suffer multitasking induced A.D.D. and can't even remember to get my coffee out of the microwave for the fifth time if I'm doing something as complex as say, staring at the countertop. Facebook is one more thing to juggle.
I have to trust that those who enjoy what I have to share will come around to this soul kitchen.
I am letting go of my fear of being without Facebook. It feels very freeing...
When I began blogging 5+ years ago, it was such a novelty. And then a backlash happened, just as I see now with social media. Bloggers disabled comments because there were distasteful words being broadcasted, quiet wars were being waged with other bloggers against rival gangs, some were getting too attached to how many comments were being left for them, and how much traffic they were receiving. It was too much for them.
I didn't really have that experience with blogging, but I'm having it with Facebook. It's happening again, just as it does with most things-the pleasurefest peaks and then...the crash.
During my ecstatic moment of realizing that I needn't wait until the end of the year to cut the cord- I needn't have other options in place for people to "find me" and "friend me" other than what I already have going-Etsy and this blog, basically-I had wild visions.
Wild visions of playing outside with my children and swinging them "Higher, higher!", taking more pictures and sitting somewhat attentively without my smartphone flashing me to let me know someone had FB'd me in some way. I saw a slow motion movie playing in my mind of hitting the delete key on my account and running outside to play with my patchwork skirt flying up in the air on the way out. I saw myself interested in cooking dinner again-actual meals with various items on our plates. I saw me looking at my husband when he's talking to me. I saw fewer reasons to check my email while I'm working hard doing the work I love to do.
Facebook isn't on the hook for my spousal or culinary neglect, I wouldn't dare blame that on anyone else, but here's the deal: my mind thinks in "facebook-ese" now, and friends, that is simply too much real estate being taken up in there, which I would like to use for other enterprises.
So I say to you Facebook and Twitter, farewell. I've had some of the best memories and met some sweet, kindred souls at your virtual house party. Being there was never a mistake, and I have no regrets about my time spent there-I've learned so much about what works for me by showing up to the party in my best dress, ready to grab a glass and flit about.
My hope is that if you enjoyed connecting with me there, you'll visit me here and stay in touch through my blog and shop.
Thank you all for understanding, and thank you, Marisa, for shining a flashlight on a subject that became instantly illuminated the moment I read your words.
Meet me in the field of dandelions where we can really get to know each other, face to face and heart to heart. I would love to share some time with you that way.
