Why I Left Facebook

Why I Left Facebook

I just deleted my Facebook account. While it is true that I spent quite a bit of time considering this--an action I started considering in the dark of 2010--I thought I was going to feel uncertain about it at the end. When it came down to it, I didn't think I would be able to hit the 'Delete' button.

But I did...and boy, did it feel good.

Despite the seminars I attended and the well-meaning friends and family who shared their views, I just couldn't keep up with Facebook. Weeding out the Instant Messages and emails was too much for me. Some of them were real, but some seemed to be sales pitches, or read as though they'd been created by robots.

What I learned came down to this: My feelings about friendship and connection are based on more intimate exchanges than what is possible on a site that calls every passerby a 'friend'.

And even though Facebook and other social networking sites are supposed to be the wave of...whatever...I just can't get excited about continuing to participate in a forum that feels more and more plastic. The exchanges are so general...but maybe it's just me. I don't like to share too much in such a public forum. Who knows where the information will end up?

Of course, I know plenty of people who have no difficulty divulging their secrets on Facebook...and what they did the night before...and with whom...and in how many strange places they have bruises this morning. I think something is shifting in our culture. Despite the widespread deterioration of interpersonal relationships, information shared on the Internet is forever. I'm not sure how, but we don't seem to be able to keep that in mind when we type our confessionals on social networking sites.

And many of us are suffering as a result. Students are sanctioned for scheduling fights just outside of school property, employees are losing their jobs for failing to speak highly of their workplaces, their bosses, or their own performance--or sometimes because they divulged one secret too many. I just read an essay written by a woman who said she discovered her husband's long-term affair when his mistress sent the wife a message on a social networking site.

We are losing sight of our boundaries--or perhaps we're recreating them altogether.

But I didn't get rid of my Facebook page because I wanted to make a point about U.S. society in general. I wanted to disconnect myself from the constant deluge of information that created a sense of faux-intimacy that put the lie to relationships that are built on genuine trust and caring.

I want to create real connections again.

"But how will I find out what you're doing?" one friend asked when I told her what I was intending to do. Hmmm. I could hardly stop myself from sighing out loud when she asked me. I reminded her that Alexander Graham Bell once came up with a device that could be helpful, and suggested that she might have heard of it.

"You really need to keep Facebook for your business," my brother opined. A brilliant entrepreneur in Georgia, I understand he knows a lot about building successful businesses. I just can't say that I've had much in the way of feedback when I've talked about what I'm doing with my own business on that site. Even when I have sought volunteers to come to classes that I was instructing (to receive a completely free massage, mind you), I found myself coming up empty. This didn't feel very good to me, on a lot of different levels.

If our relationships have become dependent upon messages that are posted to a public forum, then how can we say that we have much in the way of relationships at all? Where is the intimacy? Where is the sense of connection? I can't help but feel that they are missing. What remains feels very much like the aftermath of a public confession: emotional nudity at its finest. Where is the personal meaning?

It could be the case that I will feel remorseful at some point. Should that occur, Facebook has assured me that I can sign up again with my original information, which they will keep in their databases on my behalf. I would like to think that is sweet, but it just feels creepy...like receiving greeting cards from an ex with whom things ended badly.

But my work--at its heart--is about embodying connections; about moving closer to the self, and recognizing its essence in all of the people we meet. All of the transactions that take place in cyberspace seem awfully far away to me. I would be delighted to see all of what we are doing move closer to where we live.

In the meantime, I will move forward in my quest to create genuine human connections in an increasingly disconnected world.

Wish me luck. I hope to greet you on the path.