Auntie SparkNotes: Facebooklessness

Dearest Auntie,

Let me preface with my candid declaration that I am not a Facebook addict. I do not spend hours on Facebook each night, or even minutes or seconds. In actuality, though I *was* a Facebookie last year, I found that the habit was quite easy to kick. Most of this was due to the fact that my younger sister, who is in middle school, created a Facebook account. From my perspective, the amount of time that she wasted was... well, blatantly speaking, pathetic. And if I take an even greater leap to twenty/thirty-so years later: I don't want to have Facebook if I have a kids or a family, or especially if I'm happily married. I view it as a distraction from my real life.

The question now, however, is - should I delete my Facebook? Facebook for me does what it's advertised to be: it connects me to the "friends" that I've made. I'm a Model UN debater, and with national/international conferences comes national/international friends. I can't say that I talk to every single one of them (now, I don't keep up with any of them), but the assurance that I can keep in touch fills me with a warm and fuzzy, happy feeling. The same feeling is present for my out-of-state childhood friends, and college friends, too. The chances that I'll keep in touch with them through Facebook is slim to none. But Facebook allows and would allow me to keep up with their lives if I ever wanted to - but why does this even feel like such a big decision in the first place???

I'm torn between what to do; can you help me decide?

First of all, let's just get this out of the way: as a person who has both a Facebook AND a husband—as well as a dog, a cat, a career, several fulfilling hobbies, and a serious movie-watching habit—I can say with absolute confidence that it is possible to have both a Facebook account and a healthy adult life. Which, I think, is how it works out for most people: your Facebook use, like everything else, evolves and changes as you grow up. When you're older, it's primarily a way to keep track of what other people are up to. And while you may sometimes use it to reach out or plan events, its primary purpose is for keeping up to date on who's married, who's pregnant, and who just bought a seaside villa in Spain of which you are so envious you feel you might actually kill someone.

Whereas when you're younger, less independent, and just learning how to navigate the social universe on your own, the online world is a place where you not only keep up with friendships, but work on them—which is why your sister, who is at the very beginning of establishing her adult identity, can find Facebook endlessly fascinating as a tool for self-expression and relationship-building.

Of course, this doesn't mean that you shouldn't delete your account—just that you can be pretty sure that, when your real life is thrilling and fun and full, you're not going to neglect it in favor of stalking pseudo-acquaintances and playing Farmville. So if you want to shut down your online life, you should do it because you find it to be an unwelcome distraction now, not because of some nebulous fears about how it might cause you to be a pathetic interjunkie in ten or twenty years.

That said, there's a reason why it feels like a big decision: shutting down your Facebook means severing hundreds of connections, even if they're not particularly meaningful ones—and for people who are only casual "friends," you're permanently closing the door on what's probably your only means of communication. And that's even before you get to the part where you can no longer stalk the profiles of girls you used to date to see if their new boyfriends are more or less cute than you. (What? Oh, no, of course you've never done that. SURE.)

So hey, of course it feels like a big deal. And unfortunately, it's also worth mentioning that Facebook doesn't make it particularly easy to make a graceful, permanent exit—if you do decide to delete your account, you'll have to make it through about five pages' worth of guilt trips and veiled threats about your imminent risk of becoming a social pariah before they let you go.

But! Since account deletion is both permanent (unless you want to go through the arduous process of reregistering and rebuilding your network) and a pain in the butt (unless you don't have a butt), there's another option: temporary deactivation, which offers all the benefits of Facebooklessness without the irreversible downside. And for someone in your position, it's a great way to test drive the experience of being Facebook-free without actually committing to it.

So if, after reading this, you're still feeling inclined to try out a life sans online social network, go give it a try. See how things feel without Facebook. If your life improves, then by all means, get rid of your account. If it doesn't, then hang onto it—at least until you feel compelled to revisit the idea again.

And hey, if you're still a member twenty years from now and using the network to keep in touch, stay up-to-date, and share several thousand photos of your newborn baby with any and everyone who wants to see them... well, we won't judge you.

Much.

Have you ever opted out of Facebook? Did you survive?!! Tell us in the comments! And to get advice from Auntie, email her at advice@sparknotes.com.

Related post: Auntie SparkNotes: Go Facebook Yourself