I’m not sure how it started or exactly when I gave myself permission to not have to be friends with the entire world.

You see, as a business owner, for years we have been taught to use Facebook as a marketing tool. A networking tool. I once had a trainer tell me I should be adding 5 people per day to my friends list.

Except now I don’t care if I’m cool. Now I’m above being cool and uncool. I’m awesome. And I don’t need 5,000 people to tell me they think so. My kids think I’m awesome. The hubs thinks I’m awesome. My bffs love me. (I love you too, girls.) Who else really matters? 

There I was, with all of these business acquaintances in addition to my actual friends. Marketing myself and my “stuff.” Because who knows, they might be be a customer some day. 

Between three colleges, three states, and I don’t remember how many career ventures, I’m somewhere under 1,000 friends, 90% of which probably would not cross the street to come to my funeral! Not to mention, does Facebook make anyone else jealous or is it just me? Not for the things people have, but just in general. More often than not, I find myself scrunching my eyebrows at the Disney pictures of a “friend” who didn’t use our agency to book. Is it because they didn’t know? Do they know and not care? Who knows. But I bet it’s not how Jesus intends for me to spend my time, all that envy and judgment and whatnot. I really don’t think Jesus would be on Facebook at all. Besides, all that eyebrow scrunching makes for some serious wrinkles, and who has time for all that nonsense anyway? It costs a whole lot more to unwrinkled a wrinkle than it does to just not be doin’ all the eyebrow scrunching that created the wrinkle to begin with. 

Where was I? Oh yes. Over the past few months, I must have crossed some invisible line between seeing Facebook as a marketing tool for acquaintances and wanting to see my actual friends in person.

I want to take their hands and dream with them and color on our paper placemats with crayons and sob over their heart-stories and rejoice over their accomplishments.  And yes, I do have business colleagues who are friends, and I want to meet and dream with them too. And I’m okay if it takes a little longer to do it in person, because I think it’s more authentic and real and treasured.

I want to catch up on their lives while I’m living my own, not in place of my own.

I hit the first unfriend button, and I tell ya, that must be what a little kid feels like when they shoplift and hope nobody catches them. So wrong. So morally, ethically wrong. And dangit, I hope I don’t get caught. But that “friend” puts my husband down and stirs up angst in my heart. I think it’s okay to move on. I did it once more, and then again. And then I left a group. Then another group. Groups that were clogging up my newsfeed and keeping me from seeing a sweet friend’s new baby or a friend who needed me to be a friend. 

A week later I couldn’t even tell you which groups I left, because I don’t miss them. I’m not on as much as I used to be anyway, so the precious time that I have must be spent more wisely. More time actually catching up with those who live too far for a pop-in. 

So here’s what were gonna do. I’m going to clean out my list. And you clean out yours. And if at the end of all that cleaning, we’re still friends, let’s go get a cupcake together. If we aren’t, blessings to you, no hard feelings, and you’ll be welcome to swing by my mansion when we’re both in heaven.

XOXO,

Karen

P.S. If I’ve hugged you in person, you can pretty much assume this post is not about you. But if you need to clean, and I end up being booted, I get it. Love ya, mean it.

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