Random Person 020885: Hey, you’re really cool!

Me: Thanks. You too!

RP 020885: So what’s your last name? I’ll find you on Facebook…

Do you remember life in your mother’s womb? Probably not. In a bubble. Swimming. Peaceful. Your safe place. Nothing to worry about. Then a light appears. And little do you realize that this curious happening will change your life forever. For the better? You are no longer swimming. You can hear screaming in the distance. And all of a sudden you are being pushed. No, not pushed. Something’s pulling you out of your safe place. The light grows bright. You are cold. And scared. So you cry out. Hoping someone. Anyone. Will hug you. Make you feel warm. Safe.

Me: Sorry, I’m not on Facebook anymore.

RP 020885: Anymore? Like you were on it? And left?! Wow, you’re brave!

Me: Yeah, I guess so…

Before I left FB, I thought myself to be a confident and secure individual. Thousands of “friends.” Too many wall posts, so little time. Invites a plenty. Blah, blah, blah… And so of course when I decided to leave FB, I thought it would be like any other random 20-something decision: I think I’ll call in sick today and go to the MoMA. Yes, I’ll have another shot of Jameson. And no, I will not go home with you. However, I failed to notice that my years of FB-ing conditioned me to believe that technology (text messages included) was my only means for (sober) social interactions.

RP 020885: So why did you leave?

A boy. We dated for two months, which in retrospect wasn’t that long. But on FB it felt like years. The endless wall-to-wall postings and picture tagging. And I didn’t want to tempt myself with possible… definite FB stalking. Having to un-tag photos. Or the ultimate kiss of death: un-friending him. In addition to the I just heard about you and… Are you okay? wall posts. And, as expected, I thought after I made my exit, people would call and check up on me. I’m only off of FB; I’m not dead. But very few did. A handful out of thousands of “friends.” I then saw the bigger picture: Facebook was my womb. My safe place.

Me: You know, I don’t really remember. But I don’t miss it…

I have so much more free and me time in my day, for reading blogs like this one (I love you Jessie!) as well as many other extra curricular activities.

RP 020885: So how do you stay in touch with friends?

I had to force myself to reach out to people on a more personal level. Something a little more meaningful than the obligatory Hey, Happy Thanksgiving! or the I’m so drunk right now! Wish you were here! texts. You know, real life, face to face, human contact. And I wanted the same in return. I wanted to be around my Hey I’m having a get together, and I’d really like you to be there friends versus my Oh, I’m sorry I forgot to invite you. You’re not on Facebook, anymore acquaintances. And call me old fashioned, but I still enjoy the call you on the phone/hand letter writing days.

Me: Well, here’s my number. Call me and I’ll tell you all about it…