When I was a kid, we passed notes. They were elaborately folded affairs, tucked stealthily into lockers and textbooks. Mine were covered with rotund cursive scribbles—usually in an enthusiastic shade of fuchsia.
I miss those notes.
They were little islands of joy in the gloomy sea of my school days. They were tiny invitations into the life of the sender (usually my best friend, Angela). But most of all, they were bolstering reminders that I was not alone.
Away at college, I was an avid letter-writer for the same reason. For four years, I scrawled an endless stream of dispatches to friends and family. I did it as a way of maintaining that all-important connection. I needed to share my life.
That need hasn’t changed. That’s why I’m so fascinated with Facebook. It’s the grownup equivalent to that creased, ruled-paper correspondence that was so important to me in high school. Facebook has shown me that I’m not the only one who wants to make contact.
I used to shy away from social networking sites. They were narcissistic cesspools, encouraging users to indulge in a no-holds-barred, “look at me” frenzy that led to irresponsibility and embarrassment. And I wasn’t completely off base. Browse the profile pictures on any one of these sites, and you’ll see what I mean.
But I’ve discovered that self-promotion is only part of the attraction. For me, it began with baby pictures. My first niece was born this spring, and my sister promised me access to an endless stream of photos on her Facebook page. All I had to do was join up and become her friend. Voila! Instant grinning, drooling, bow-wearing gratification.
I lurked around the site for a while, looking for family and friends. I found them in droves, chatting at each other from across the state and across the country. They were posting pictures, making jokes, and even sharing recipes. When I finally got the nerve to put up a photo and a profile, I discovered the joy of adding my voice to the chatter.
It isn’t a perfect environment. It’s tempting to inflate your life for your online posse. For example, I recently lost the corporate job that I touted in the early days of my Facebook induction. I haven’t changed my profile to reflect that yet. Furthermore, I’m sure I’m not the only girl who spent several hours taking the perfect, “I just snapped this with my cell phone” profile shot. There are certainly smoke and mirrors at work, but they don’t seem to spoil the fellowship.
Through Facebook, I’ve reconnected with a passel of cousins. We were the best of friends as children, running through my grandmother’s house in endless games of “spy” and “haunted house.” But as an adult, I lost touch with them completely. I heard accounts of their marriages and their children’s births, only when they trickled to me through our tangled family grapevine. These days, I get a constant ticker of blurbs, anecdotes, and snapshots from those cousins via my Facebook newsfeed.
And it doesn’t end with family. I’ve connected with college chums and high school classmates too. All of them have been drawn to the irresistible connectedness of a place like Facebook. Like me, they’re enthralled with the unfettered ability to share their lives. It’s the reason we keep going back for more.
Well, that and the baby pictures. Keep them coming, sis.
