It has been nearly two months since I deactivated from Facebook. It wasn’t a Lent thing nor was it necessarily by choice. I say and believe this with all seriousness – the Spirit moved me to do it.
I know this because the other times I’ve deactivated out of my own free will I couldn’t wait to get back on. I’d never last very long at being off of FB and would succumb to reactivating before my target date. I’d fall back into old habits of scrolling, clicking, and scrolling some more, until I realized I had scrolled the night away, felt horrible, then it was time to go to bed.
However, a couple weeks into this last hiatus I needed to get back on for some reason and right when I did, I immediately felt my chest tighten up and a wave of anxiety wash over me; that’s how I knew I was over it and that something bigger than myself was at work within me. HEART CHECK.
For the most part, I have no desire to get back on FB anytime soon and my soul is a lot happier. Since I’m guilty of being prone to comparison, it has been a healthy move to avoid a situation where I know I’m guaranteed to be tempted to do it, especially because of where I am in my life right now – this long uncertain season of waiting and transition.
It has been said so many times but it’s worth saying again:
I’ll admit, the hardest part of being off of FB is that it feels like I’ve been forgotten. I realized most of my “1,500 friends” aren’t going out of their way to see what I’m up to now that I’m off of FB, unless it’s my mom, who actually joined Instagram so she could keep up with me (So proud of you, Mom (and Dad – I know you were in that too)!).
It has been humbling to honestly assess how much I care about getting likes, comments, and traffic on my blog, and how much affirmation I receive from tangible feedback. It has also been humbling to think about why I write, knowing that I may or may not have an audience.
I hope this post doesn’t come back to haunt me, but somehow I’ve felt the urge to write this in hopes that maybe someone gets this struggle, and neither of us have to feel alone in it.
If it is just me, thanks for giving me the grace and space to process and be vulnerable.
❤ amanda mae