Day 9: The Day I Quit Facebook

I quit Facebook. 

It seems weird that this should warrant a blog post. In the grand scheme of things, quitting Facebook is not really important. But for a person whose life is so entangled with her Online since ’98 self, quitting Facebook is kind of a big deal. 

I was a late Facebook adapter. I joined the social media site in 2009. Back then, I was pretty much satisfied with just having my Multiply and MySpace accounts. But as most of these things go, a boy got involved and I joined the bandwagon. He was this really cool artist and I wanted to like what he likes. So what’s a smitten but very awkward girl to do? Befriend him on Facebook and stalk the heck out his wall, of course. Leave it to me to make a Facebook account for the possibility of a perhaps. 

Spoiler alert: I had my heart ripped apart by that boy which was probably for the best. I am convinced that we both got what we really wanted in the end.

In my early days in Facebook, having an account was empowering. I now have a platform where my voice can be heard. And I can hear other people’s voices too. My Facebook was a beautiful, beautiful place and it fostered learning, acceptance and grace. 

But those days are long gone now.

I was getting turned off by the click-bait articles, paid advertisements and judgmental posts but I still found myself holding on to my account. I needed it for work,  I reasoned out. It was only when God showed me the woman I was turning to be because of Facebook that I decided to finally pull the plug. (Thank you, Glorious Hope program!) 

I used to be able to freely express my thoughts on Facebook without fear of how I would look like to other people. I am, after all, only responsible for my own actions. But for the past few years, I find myself censoring myself. For someone who fiercely fought to live her life in her own terms, I became very fearful of what others thought of my Facebook account. In short, I started caring about things that I used to not care about. 

That gutted me to my core. I do not know the person staring back at the screen anymore. 

I want to be the girl who is not afraid to stand up to voice out a dissenting opinion. I want to be the girl who will tirelessly ask questions even if the answers she comes up with produce more questions.  I want to be the girl who is free to write whatever she wanted without a care for other people’s judgment and condemnation. I want to be the girl who lives in the moment, not worrying if that moment is a post-worthy moment. I want to be the girl who do not stay silent in the face of injustice. I want to be the girl who is not afraid to rock the boat of complacency and apathy. 

In short, I want the old me back. 

So I am starting with a clean slate with this blog. With no captured audience, it will be easier for me to sift through my motives on why I write what I write. Hopefully, this causes me to let my real voice be heard. It might have been buried for some time but she’s still there somewhere. I know it’s just but a matter of time.


2 thoughts on “Day 9: The Day I Quit Facebook

  1. Gen says:

    Facebook can have that effect and hold on people, I feel the same po. It does feed my insecurities among other things. I’ve thought of deactivating too many times and I wish I could do it. I really admire the way you stand up for things and your bravery, Ate Angel 🙂
    Also, I really really like the book you recommended! Hoping that I could get a physical copy before I finish it. Thank you po ♡

    • Hi, Gen! Nice to see you here. I didn’t know that you know about this “secret” blog. 🙂 A part of my issue about Facebook is that it keeps me from being contented with what I have. I am blessed beyond compare and yet there are still days when I question my life and choices because of how much “fun” other people are having on Facebook. People who aren’t even in my inner circle to begin with. So yeah, I wanna know if you ever decide to quit Facebook.

      I still have to read the books that you loaned me. Sorry! :S I’ll try to get around to reading them.

      P.S. We miss you here. I miss you!

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