I created a Facebook account when there were less than 10 people from Idaho Falls on the site. I forgot about the account for years. That is until a useful critical mass of fellow smalltowners joined. I connected with old friends. We talked about old times. We shared our experiences since high school. And after learning our current day to day lives, we didn’t have much to talk about. So we didn’t.
Afterward, I stayed on Facebook, Twitter, and all the other sites for years after. I checked the sites daily. Sometimes multiple times a day. I quit posting personal stuff. I lurked. I thought about deleting my account. I had many excuses.
- I am connected to my family, how will I know what is happening in their lives?
- I have all this history on the site, I don’t want to lose it
- I have my photography page, a Facebook presence is necessary to establish myself.
- Twitter is a communication method, I just need to work at it and cultivate it to work for me.
There are many more excuses, many more. Each excuse was just that, an excuse. Each excuse lacked substance, just fluffy feel bad words. I had a full life before social media. I knew what was happening in my family. I don’t look back at old posts, unless I’m settling an argument. I don’t have a photography business depending on the Facebook page. I press backspace on Twitter posts more than characters sent.
I just did it one day, casually. I told my wife I was deleting the pages. I did and went on with life.
My ego expected a fallout. I thought people would protest. I thought people would rise up and force me to re-enter the social media world re-filling the void I left. A few people contacted my wife to see if I was ok. Depression is a real thing, and some people care. Those who do care respect my choices. I choose to create because I want to bring something beautiful into the world. I create for me.
So I wanted to let everyone know, I’m alive. I’m not on social media. I’m creating right here.