Face Value

My life on Facebook is pretty incredible. It’s positive, diverse and “busy beyond belief”. On Facebook I have lots of friends, do lots of fun things, and live on the corner of Utopia and Easy Street. On Facebook. In real life, I’m annoyed at my husband, I forgot at least two important school items I should have completed for one or both children, and have most likely just blown my top at said children for some sort of everyday violation.

I have wanted to write about this for a long time because I often hear how (pick one): busy, accomplished, fun, wonderful my life is. They’ve seen it on Facebook. Because I’ve posted it on Facebook. As Facebook has become more (and more) embedded in our society and culture, morphing into a kind of social addiction, I have developed a love-hate relationship with it. Mainly for two reasons.

Facebook is a public platform, not a secret club.

As an active contributor with a decent amount of “friends”, I treat social media as if I were standing in a crowded public area, right next to my parents and my prospective boss. Because I am. Therefore I am very mindful of what I say, how I say it and the imagery I associate myself with. I’m all for free speech and understand others may not agree with me, but I often cringe and shake my head with worry when I see posts (or pictures) that lead me to believe “this may cost you your dream job one day”.

Sometimes, I am shocked and appalled by the intensely negative or unthoughtful post, and may shift my opinion of people. Total bummer. The fascinating thing about that is, I’m pretty sure most people wouldn’t say intensely negative or unthoughtful comments in public, yet they will post it on Facebook-- probably because it’s so easy, and lures us with a false sense of safety and intimacy.

I’ve been guilty of not meeting my own expectations myself, having just recently deleted a great family vacation post which had multiple pictures, one of which I was posing in a swimsuit. Do I wear my swimsuit in public? Absolutely. But after reading a few comments about my -er-swimsuit (without complaint mind you, as I am the one who “put myself out there” as a spectacle), I realized I had made an error in a moment when I felt unguarded. Even though I deleted that picture, I wonder who shifted their opinion of me as it came across their feed that day. Just like that.

The thing is, I don’t know what my future will hold for me. I’ve based my entire professional life and personal growth in the conviction of possibilities and faith in my network/community. It’s worked out incredibly well, I think in large part because I am very driven to make myself worthy of any good thing that comes my way. And how I conduct myself in public counts towards building my worth.

Facebook is not real life. Facebook is not real life.

With the above as my guideline, I also curate and share the best versions of myself and my life, understanding they are out on public display. When I see my collection of posts over time, I can clearly see what I’ve done is created an Avatar, an on-line persona. My particular Avatar definitely represents a part of me that is real. I am an outgoing, positive gal who loves people with a capital “L”. I enjoy being active in a lot of diverse areas, and I like to help my community through work, promotional support and advocacy. But, it’s not me.

As much as I am an extrovert and fueled by social activity, I am nearly as introverted, reflective, and private. I write a lot. I read a lot. I study and practice classical music; tasks which must include seclusion and inner silence. In reality, my best moments in life, the ones that burn onto my soul forever and change who I am, I never share on Facebook. I protect them with a fierce loyalty, storing them in the inner chambers of a strong and very private heart.

The same would apply for the worst moments of my life, although I consider myself pretty darn lucky having never had to go through any real trial of great significance. So the better truth would be, I never share the mundane and the normal; the heaps of laundry, the messy house, the fights with my spouse that leaves me questioning our future together-- the days when I feel overwhelmed, inadequate, and bitter. I don’t post about those, but I sure experience them. Just I assume, like the rest of you.

And I do in fact assume that. Because we’re all wonderfully complex, ambitious, insecure, and yearning to matter in the world. It’s in our universal DNA as humans. Facebook is a fantastic tool that I would never want to give up. I’ve cultivated my on-line network for years and use it to share, and just as often to receive—information, opportunities, and important events. But I never forget it is a tool, not to be replaced by a firm hand shake and genuine smile. My relationship with Facebook is always at arm’s length.

Our value should be weighed by those who love us, and how we love others. Not in the number of “likes” we get on a post, how many “friends” we have, or what the next exciting thing is we can share.

So when I see the seemingly shiny happy people in my feed, I smile, celebrate them with a like or comment, and then make an attempt at my dirty laundry.