This is the cross my heart, hope to die, true story of how I got an account on Facebook. It was somewhere between 2007 and 2010. Somebody I didn’t know very well was coming to stay at our house and I decided to stalk him first. We had 4 littles sleeping in their bunkbeds and while I prayed for their safety, I acted on the premise that God needed a wingwoman to get the job done.

I discovered, to my delight, that Facebook invited me to re-connect over time and despite distance in ways I couldn’t have otherwise. I loved looking at picture perfect family photos and created them myself. For awhile, I was enamored. Over time; though, my feed started to be supplanted with posts of Facebook’s selection. Turns out they’re better stalkers than I am. Topics of conversation in Messenger, started showing up in my feed. Any post I paused over, I’d get more of and if I was took the clickbait, similar posts multiplied like baby hamsters. Facebook decided who I am, what I like, how I think and gave me more.

Here’s the thing, historically I’ve listened way too hard to other people’s voices claiming they know what is right, good and best for me. I don’t need patronizing on social media too. So, mostly, I’ve tried to ignore what I don’t like because the algorithms give me just enough SCOTLAND with its highland cows and Yorkshire sheep to keep me hooked. And, besides that, Marketplace is my happy space. However, in the current political climate which is boorish, vulgar, divisive and unhinged, I want out. 

So, here’s my plan. I’m going to try this— keep my account open but only for accessing Marketplace and Messenger. Going forward, don’t assume that I’ve seen anything important that you post. When we meet in the grocery store, I won’t know if your dad died or your family just welcomed another grandkid, so tell me or text me or message me as I come to mind. And keep the family pictures coming too!

Over the years, I’ve posted links to my writing on my feed and some of you have connected with the words and feelings expressed. I am shutting my WordPress blog down as well, but probably not until the end of the year, when it’s time to pay my annual subscription fee. I ordered a printed copy of my blog, which turned into 3 volumes and 696 pages to be exact.

The past three years, I’ve been pretty quiet, my writing energy primarily channeled into academic papers, but, recently, I’ve been inspired to write again and have started a Substack account. Consider this your invitation to follow me there: https://substack.com/@hopewebster1?

Fall has been good to us here in the Great Lake State this year. I’ve been taking long, reflective walks in the tail end of the summer sunshine, the leaves blushing and dancing off the trees. The temperatures are noticeably cooling this week. Something is ending and something else is beginning. For everything, there is a season. So, too with Facebook. It was good back in the day, but that day is no more. “And I know, when it’s time to go.”