Free yourself from Facebook

I have a love/hate affair with the internet. On the one hand I adore it. I'm a self-confessed Twitter addict, I'm never off Instagram and Pinterest lets me indulge my girly side perfectly. The internet is a valuable tool for me. It's how I promote my blog, how I find writing jobs and it's also where I do my banking, where I salivate over shoes I can't afford and where I look to for advice on things from cooking to parenting.

However....

When it comes to relationships (and dating in general), I think the internet can be a strange and daunting place. I have always preferred not to put too much of that side of my life onto the net. I've never been the type to post smug lovey dovey photos on Facebook and if I wanted to tell someone that I cared about them I would definitely rather do it over a steak and a bottle of Merlot than through the power of a social media platform. Of course you can't be with someone for a long time while being an internet addict such as myself and not expect them to run into each other now and again. However, when it comes to this blog and my Twitter timeline, I tend not to say too much. I have an appreciation of how alien and personal writing about yourself can be and just because I choose to do it, does not mean that I have the right to talk about other peoples lives all over the old www.

In terms of new relationships I prefer to say very little because you never know what is going to happen. Things can move very quickly and then end just as suddenly. The last thing I would want to be is that girl who has to explain to 1400 twitter followers why she is suddenly single again. That's not to say I won't write about the highs and lows of life, love and relationships. Cause that's just what I do (and I will get that column eventually - so screw you stream of rejection letters....).

But I never name names. I never recount personal events and my writing is always about me. It's about my thoughts, my feelings and my take on situations. Nothing more, nothing less. Who said blogging was narcissitic?

The point of this post, is that my love affair with social media always dwindles when you have to deal with ex-etiquette. I've dated guys who were desperate for me to 'tell the internet' about them. Who relished the idea of my throwing their name about online and who were dying for me to tell all the two-dimensional people that I was in love. Alternatively, I've had boyfriends who weren't particularly arsed. Who found the whole 'blogging' thing slightly daunting and weird and who rarely read what I wrote (and truthfully, I preferred these ones).

But what happens when these people become ex's? Whether you were dating for a short period of time or were together for years - what's the best way to deal with it? Is there some manual? Some code on how to behave in a mature and dignified fashion without looking childish or bitter? I'm not the kind of girl who likes to torture herself. I've seen way too many friends spend way too many evenings staring at their ex-boyfriends Facebook wall with only a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a Celine Dion album for company. And I just think - what's the point? Don't get me wrong, it's never a bad thing when your ex's new bird turns out to be a little bit chubbier than you or you discover through some casual late night stalking that he got dumped on a plane or something. But as much pleasure as this brings - it's not going to help you move on is it?

And if his new girlfriend happens to look like Sienna Miller and the only plane chat is them discussing their upcoming holiday to Dubai then really, it's better just to let it go. Don't you think?

So I choose not to be reminded of stuff. I unfollow and I unfriend. Although I worry it makes me look spiteful. When I am far from that. But I just don't think social media and ex's work. That's not to say that you can't reconnect with someone at some point. If you are grown up enough to end things amicably and there's a chance that you might be friends in the future then by all means give them a poke. 

Just make sure it's of the Facebook kind yeah?

Why Facebook is an evil cult that must be destroyed.....

Recently something happened that made me stay off Facebook for quite a few days. I'm not going to go into what actually happened because it's not important. But someone posted something that upset me. The person in question is a lovely person and it was in no way directed at me. It's just a sensitive subject and she probably didn't even think about the fact I might see it. My reaction was silly. Instead of deleting my Facebook, an idea I have been flirting with for ages, I deleted the friend (if you're reading this I'm sorry). Which was pretty horrible. And the next day I really regretted it. Not because the large glass of Merlot made me do it (it didn't) but because: 

Facebook is an evil cult and must be destroyed

So why don't I just leave Facebook? Isn't that the million dollar question? And the answer is: I don't know. I bang on about needing to keep it for my Mum. She lives in Cyprus and I know she genuinely loves sifting through all the new photos I post of Ava and me and my sister. And I do admit that Facebook can be a fabulous thing for keeping a connection with loved ones so far away. But is that the only reason I don't leave? I don't think so.

For a start, parents on Facebook are a pain in the arse. Suddenly your statuses and timelines have to be vetted constantly for fear of something bad getting back to your parents. That's after the constant pretending you haven't seen their friend request until the point comes where you can't make excuses any more and actually have to accept it. I remember one lovely friend posting something on my timeline about us using recreational drugs. It was a joke. And wasn't true. But I still remember panicking that my Mum wouldn't get it and deleting it quick smart before she was on the blower booking me into the nearest Betty Ford Clinic.

Then there's the Facebook stalking. I'm going to say something here and you probably won't believe me - but I have never really fell foul of the whole FB stalking thing. Yep, I might have had a nosy at an ex's photos through boredom and too much Sauvignon of a night. But literally only ever a couple of times in my life. And if I'm honest I'm far too self-absorbed to really be interested that much in what my ex's are getting up to. Plus I don't see the point in putting yourself through the emotional ringer just to find out if your last bloke's new bird is fatter or skinnier than you are. But I have seen and heard about friends doing it. A lot. And I don't think it's healthy. Not only does is curb the time it takes to heal after a bad break up but it just cannot be good for one's soul. And this is the whole point. I don't think Facebook is good for the soul

There are a thousand other reasons that I could go into as to why I don't like FB. The real question is? Why don't I just bloody leave?

I do have hundreds of photos on there that I would need to export before I could wave goodbye to the site and I can't really be bothered doing it. But it's not a real reason. Is it vanity? Do I need the self-validation of knowing that the photo of Ava looking really cute or the one of me looking uncharacteristically sexy gets 25 likes? Or is it nosiness? Do I just enjoy finding out what's happening in other peoples lives? Sort of like a social media curtain twitcher?

Who knows. But I've been off it a week and feel much better. I haven't read one social status or posted any of my own. And I don't miss it in the slightest. I'm still going to post photos (I have some wedding ones and a pile of pics of Ava for my Mum that I'm going to post on it now) but I've deleted the app on my phone and once the pics are uploaded, I intend on not even looking at how many 'likes' I get.

And  you know what - I feel great about it.

Just don't ask me to delete the fucking thing.

Why Facebook & alcohol should never be mixed....

So I am going to tell you an embarrassing story.....

When I moved to Glasgow I joined a gym. Quite a posh gym in fact. Frequented by many a Scottish soap star & football player. I loved it. The personal trainers were fit and the sauna was lovely. One of the personal trainers was really fit in fact. And I started to get the impression he was giving me the eye. He would pull me aside to tell me I was doing my obliques wrong or occassionally glance in my direction when I was walking past. Such flirtatious behaviour continued for a couple of months. Sometimes I thought 'He bloody well fancies me' and other times, (when I caught sight of the latest skinny gorgeous WAG he was mid-sesh with), I thought 'Mmmm maybe not....'.

Anyway it never came to anything more than a couple of shy smiles. And then the worst thing happened.

I got drunk.

I got drunk and I went on Facebook. I found his page (come on girls we all know Cyber-stalking is easy these days) and I friended him.

I went to bed amused at my cunning yet endearing attempt at a first move.

I woke up mortified. Frantically I went on Facebook to see if it had been accepted. It hadn't. And worst of all my friend request seemed to have disappeared. With a sinking feeling in my stomach I tried to deduce why this was. Either one of two things had happened:

1) I hadn't actually friended him. I was pretty drunk and technology and me get blurry after too many wines.

OR

2) The mortifying bit. He had seen it and declined me.

I appeased my worries by convincing myself that there was no way he could have declined such a lovely offer in the space of only a few hours? During the night? Surely not. 'It's fine', I thought. Until my friend kindly pointed out the next day, "He probably gets his friend requests emailed to him. Everyone has an I-phone or Blackberry these days Dawn". Great, I thought. He declined me. The bastard declined me. And me, just trying to be friendly.....

So I did what any other mature, sensible, laid-back girl would do. I quit my gym. A MASSIVE over-reaction you are probably thinking. But I couldn't face the thought of seeing him. Of him looking over thinking "There's that idiot that tried to pull me on Facebook". The shame, the embarrassment, the utter mortification!!!!

And so I haven't been back in that gym since. Am I idiot? Does such dramatic actions make me vain and conceited? Or severely self-conscious? You decide.

I know one thing for sure. From now on, when the vodka comes out. The Facebook goes off.


P.S. For those who care theres a detox update coming your way very soon.......