Ashton Uytengsu is a recent graduate of the University of Southern California's Marshall School of Business where she studied entrepreneurship and global strategy.
By Ashton Uytengsu
Olmstead Williams Communications
I’m 22 and my job is social media. I am also a full-fledged Facebooker. When I moved to California from the Philippines for college, it was a great way to keep in touch with friends back home. As my network grew, it allowed me to keep up to date on upcoming events and enjoy pictures that people posted. And after graduating from college, it made staying in touch with friends who had moved away much easier.
About a month ago, however, I decided to break free from the chains of Facebook. Some of the most common reasons cited for leaving Facebook include embarrassing or incriminating messages on walls, friend requests from needy exes or a crazy uncle, constant invitations to silly events and perhaps most importantly, the existence of pictures or wall posts that could hurt future relationships and job opportunities.
My reason for leaving Facebook was a little different; it was more of an experiment. I used to spend over an hour a day on the Web site, pouring over my friends new photo albums and tracking conversations on wall posts. In fact, it was one of three sites I checked religiously every morning when I woke up, sandwiched between Gmail and WSJ.com. This was completely normal to me, as everyone I knew was guilty of the same practice.
One day, a coworker approached me with a look of amusement. “1,600 friends? How is that even possible?” she asked. I sat there for a minute before explaining that the list consisted of my childhood and high school friends, college friends and a mix of people I had met traveling over the years. Later that day, though, I got to thinking. Of those 1,600 friends I had on Facebook, there were probably 200 people that I really cared about, and 50 that I am in constant communication with. I wondered how vital Facebook was to my social life and whether I could survive not having the constant access to news and gossip.
Within days of deactivating my account, word got to me about disgruntled friends who assumed I had ‘defriended’ them. Others complained that they had to spend the extra 10 seconds to send me a text message instead of a Facebook invitation to an upcoming event. After the initial outcry, however, I honestly felt quite liberated. I didn’t miss my daily stalking routine, nor did I miss the unwanted friend requests or event invitations.
I held out for about a month before returning to the Web site. I realize this doesn’t sound like a long time, but my deactivation was merely an experiment. I’m back to my usual routine, but knowing that I can walk away anytime, I feel less the addict.
