When I broke up with my fiancé I broke up with Facebook. I didn’t want to deal with changing my relationship status. I didn’t want to be the juvenile one to unfriend his friends and family. I didn’t want to deal with the “Facebook memories” that would inevitably appear.
There were plenty of awkward moments in the supermarket when a well-meaning acquaintance would ask, “when are you getting married?” and I’d say “well, actually, he changed his mind about that”, wondering how they knew I was engaged – Facebook! And they’d usually reply with “but you looked so happy?!?” and I’d think ‘how would you know?’ – Facebook!
Facebook told my 400 “friends” (and probably their friends and their friends) that I was engaged and blissfully happy. I was one of those people – only posting my highs on social media, when there were plenty of lows.
In the final months of Facebook I found that my feed was full of cat videos (which I’m totally OK with), or updates from people that I didn’t know, but that Facebook had deemed newsfeed-worthy. I didn’t really need to know that someone I went to school with commented “Your [sic] not wrong there bro I defiantly [sic] agree bro” *insert gun emoji pointing at eye rolling emoji*, on the status of a stranger.
Facebook was a source of anxiety in what was already an incredibly anxious time for me. I noticed that a former friend had blocked me on Facebook (her name wasn’t in bold when another friend tagged her in something that appeared between cat vids), and I wasted waaay too much time trying to figure out why she would have felt the need to block me.
I found out through Facebook that a friend who lives across the ditch had been to visit and had stopped off in my very town to see another friend, but hadn’t told me she was in the country. I was really offended, but if it wasn’t for Facebook, I would have carried on in ignorant bliss.
Via Facebook I saw friends with babies who were constantly cancelling catch ups with me, catching up with other friends with babies, and it made me feel like shit. So I quit.
There’s an app you can get, and it tells you who has followed, unfollowed, blocked, or stalked you on Instagram. I don’t have the app, but there are lots of users that do. I lose followers every day, maybe people think I have shit chat, maybe people don’t like lamb spam, maybe it’s just the activewear accounts from America following then unfollowing me.
I currently run five Instagram accounts, and when Instagram introduced the functionality to switch between accounts, I slowly started to tailor the feeds of my different accounts so I was seeing different things in each account. I “unfollowed” several accounts from one account, but followed them from another, the likes on my account that was “unfollowing” plummeted.
People were so obviously referring to their app, seeing that one account had unfollowed, but not noticed that they’d gained a follower from another of my accounts. There’s nothing social about that shit, that’s just pure short sightedness. It’s the same thumb pressing “buy now”, or clicking through to read a post no matter which of my accounts I’m following from.
There was a bit of a furore recently about increased transparency when “bloggers” promote products that they receive for free or are paid to talk about. Surely it’s obvious? Last month it was skin care, last week it was rice crackers, this week it’s popcorn. Apparently people don’t want to be sold to on social media…
I’m guessing these people who are so offended about being sold to don’t drive past billboards, don’t watch sports games with (hundreds of) thousands of dollars’ worth of signage, they don’t read magazines and they don’t visit websites with banner ads?
This one time, I got an email from an agency asking for my postal address as they had a client who wanted to send me something to promote. I shit you not, I thought I had cracked it. The parcel arrived, it was heavy, it was the size of a large shoe box, and I was convinced it was a pair of new season boots from a footwear retailer. I was wrong.
It was a hot water bottle, a cupcake and an orange beanie that I was to wear and post a pic of to try and win a camera.
Don’t worry, even though no one else is sending me free shit or throwing their services in my face (like actually, how good would a chemical peel be right now?!?!), I will continue to be a blogger as defined by Urban Dictionary:- “A wannabe journalist who is unqualified, uninformed, unemployed, or some combination of all three.” – sums me up quite nicely!