Yes, 1998. You know the internet time of 1998. A time when the internet meant mostly dial-up, and the best you could do in social media was make a hideous webpage, or create an America Online Homepage. A time when Facebook was but a glimmer in our eyes.
Today, I deactivated my personal Facebook account.
(Don’t worry, Swim Bike Mom on Facebook shall live on and on and on. And don’t be crazy, Pinterest, Twitter and the like shall continue until someone wrenches them away from my grasp.)
But as far as the personal account, I can’t even describe the ridiculous garbage that I was tired of reading and digesting every day. From people I wasn’t even sure I knew. You know what I’m talking about… you’ve got these people too.
The problem with Facebook is the countless, randomly organized categories of people with whom I was sharing pictures of my kids, boasts of my races and shouts about my moods. To demonstrate the catagories, I present you with:
The Personal Facebook Tree:
friends “friends” frenemies family friends friends of friends
friends of family friends
family and friends of ex-boy/girlfriends/spouses
family “other family” family you don’t like family you shouldn’t like family you don’t know at all
people who you wish were actually in your family
co-workers co-workers you like
co-workers you don’t like
co-workers who you aren’t sure you really know
co-workers who you aren’t sure actually still work at the job
family of co-workers whose actual co-worker is not actually on Facebook
classmates from college
classmates from high school
classmates from your miserable days in advance degree land
spouses and friends of classmates from all of your classmates, living and deceased
people you met at a work/chuch/community function
other strange people you kinda know
people you clearly don’t know
common interest people
weirdos and freaks
My Facebook Tree was starting to look a little crazy, and not just that, it was causing me a ridiculous amount of stress – more stress than putting on a wetsuit with a body freshly wiped down with molasses.
And for what? Because I thought if someone commented something ominious on their page that it was about me due to the analysis of context clues and my prior interactions with this person…. but I wasn’t completely sure? Or was I sure? Or maybe it was possible it was about me, sort of? And if it was, well, then that hurt my feelings, but I had no intention of doing anything about any of it. (And no, Mountain Goat, this does NOT have to do with your comment about No Kids at the Vortex!)
So last night, I decided that I couldn’t do it anymore. Yes, I am keeping the Swim Bike Mom page alive on Facebook for a zillion reasons, but mostly because the average sized SBM tree makes sense:
The Swim Bike Mom Facebook Tree
people with goals
people who love triathlon
people with other similar interests
running our buns off
people who love to talk about triathlon
people who love to read about triathlon
people who like to encourage others in the sport of triathlon
my real friends who accept me even though I wear spandex…. alot
people in my family who love me enough to read my triathlon adventures
To me, the Swim Bike Mom Facebook Tree makes alot more sense than that crazy personal tree that grew so big ….I had to chop it down because there’s no room in the forest for something that insane.
Getting rid of my personal page is one less thing,— and more of me making time to do what I love: blogging, encouraging others to tri, chatting about my kids, triathlon in general, and training…. without worrying about other dram-o-ramas floating on my news feed by someone who may or may not be a friend. So yay. I am always available via email and through the zillion other social avenues.
Much like losing my scale, I think this will be a good thing. Thanks to all of you who continue to stick around with me.