By ALISON LESTER
Managing Editor
PUBLISHED NOVEMBER 1, 2011
Back in early August, I did something terrible that lasted for over three weeks straight. It was something so shocking and socially damaging that I cannot believe I have since recovered. That’s right, I deactivated my Facebook.
I had been planning on deactivating my Facebook for a long time; I had daydreams of a world where people could no longer stalk my life while constantly updating me on how they woke up, went to work, and then went to bed. I did not want to go as far as deleting my profile as I realized I would probably one day have to reactivate it for various club and job-related reasons. I just wanted to take a break from the social networking giant that seemed to be consuming a large portion of my life.
One night during a long car ride home, I pulled out my phone and decided to go for it. When I found and clicked on the “Deactivate your account” link, I was greeted by one of the creepiest things I have ever seen on the website. A page popped up which asked me, “Are you sure you want to deactivate your account?” It contained 5 pictures of me with some of the friends I communicate most with on Facebook. Above each of the pictures, it said, “[First name] will miss you.”
Facebook’s sad attempt to guilt trip me into staying actually made me want to leave more; I could not hit the “Confirm” button fast enough. Feeling happy with my decision, I texted some of my closest friends to let them know that I had deactivated my account, and that the best way to contact me now would be by phone.
Judging by some of the responses I received, you would think I just told everyone that I like to eat babies for lunch. I got a slew of concerned and even angry text messages from people who told me that I had ruined our archived friendship (because the pictures, wall posts, and comments were all gone), that I would be out of the loop, and that I was destroying my social life. “Really? Because I’m talking to you right now,” I told one friend who claimed we would lose touch.
The borderline insane reactions I got to simply deactivating my Facebook was reminiscent of the time I deleted my Myspace, back when Myspace was still popular. Everyone thought I was ruining my social life then too, but I managed to survive that break up considerably well. The fact that everyone was freaking out this much over a website reassured me that my decision to deactivate was a good one.
The next few weeks were incredibly freeing as I remained stubborn. I had no idea who recently went from being “in a relationship” to “single” or who ate a turkey sandwich for lunch, and I liked it that way. Best of all, I found out who actually cared about what was going on in my life.
Unfortunately, as I had predicted, I was eventually forced to reactivate my account in order to run a couple of Facebook pages. This has since caused me to relapse and update my profile on a regular basis, much to my own chagrin.
I know I should probably embrace the fact that we live in a time where technology has made us constantly connected with each other and eager to know everything as soon as it happens. Instead, I cannot wait for when I can once again deactivate my Facebook account and be liberated.
