I admit it, I love Facebook. I am a total media geek addicted to the social realm. I tweet, link, post and blog mostly on a daily basis. Usually all this talky talk is a good thing, except for when it’s not.
Let’s just say, intent and interpretation can have a vast chasm between them.
On Saturday evening, as the blessed second day of July came to a close, I decided to thank all my friends and family for my lovely birthday wishes.
So, I took a silly picture of the baby and me and posted it to Facebook. My status comment said, “Thank you, thank you for all the birthday blessings! Thirty-nine never looked so good.”
Now, just for clarity I was in jammies. No makeup, no hair styling, just a darling baby and a blissful mommy with a heart full of gooey emotions.
My husband glanced at my post and commented, “Umm, that seems sort of vain,”
“Huh?” I replied.
“Well, it could be interpreted you think you look pretty hot for thirty-nine.” Tim suggested. “I don’t think you mean that, but some people might.”
My eyes filled with tears and spilled over onto my cheeks. “That’s not what I meant at all!
What I meant to say was –turning thirty-nine isn’t as daunting as I thought it would be. My life is bubbling over with precious riches like my toddler, tween and teenager. I don’t feel old; I feel twenty-nine with ten extra years of wisdom.”
“Ok” he said. “I understand your intent but other people might not.”
I lurched for my laptop and angrily deleted my post. I thought about trying to reword it but all my attempts sounded pathetic.
“Umm, yeah… I don’t mean I look hot for thirty-nine. I mean, I don’t look bad, actually, I think I look pretty good for birthing three kids, but I didn’t mean –aren’t I hot? But, if you think I’m pretty, that’s ok too, because it’s nice to feel attractive, but I wasn’t looking for a compliment or trying to brag all over Facebook like I’m some sort of diva.”
I admit I’m vain, but not that vain.
Right. Delete seemed to be the best option.
Over a yummy margarita and chips on Sunday at Casa Ranchera (yes it’s my favorite restaurant); I shared my Facebook tale with some of my closest friends, relative newlyweds who are beginning the journey of navigating marriage.
The husband laughed with a knowing look of insight and said-“Facebook causes more arguments than anything. We spent a whole counseling session over a misunderstanding regarding a picture my wife posted. “
He thought the picture portrayed him in an unflattering and possibly angry light. She thought it was funny. Then he really did get angry and she got hurt.
Bamm! $150 bucks on Facebook therapy.
I’ve learned the hard way, as in some counseling sessions of my own, not to write about my husband or post on my blog without his approval (as a pastor he doesn’t approve of the humor or shock value in some of the stuff I find hysterical, like an occasional well placed bad word, his unedited opinions and anything remotely sexual.
Social media inevitably leads to social conflict.
The beauty (or maybe the detriment) of Facebook is that it reflects ordinary life, with all the misunderstandings between men and women. But the old petty arguments are now magnified in front of five hundred of our closest friends. What used to be an annoying slip of the tongue now morphs into a media fiasco.
Maybe in this new social planet, some things are simply better left unsaid, at the very least edited, or if it’s really funny…maybe worth a little squabble.
