Dear Facebook Friends:
Several years ago I deactivated my Facebook account. My New Year’s resolution was to be more intentional, more mindful.
It wasn’t you. It was me.
You see before then, I would mindlessly pickup my phone and aimlessly scour Facebook at every available spare moment. Seriously. It had become a thoughtless addiction … in line at the store, in between meetings at work, while eating dinner with my husband.
The habit was disrupting my life.
And by disruption, I mean I was getting too wrapped up in your lives. Your achievements made me judge my own. Your big announcements made me miss you, especially my family. I saw you guys together and immediately wanted to be there with you. After 18 years of living states apart, I thought it would get easier but it hasn’t. I still miss not being there with you for birthdays, holidays…and all days, really. Facebook was a saddening reminder of the time I am not with you.
I also get jealous. As sinful as it is, I want the things you have. Not the mishaps or bad days, but the vacations, celebrations, and accomplishments. I am sorry. It’s hard for me to admit but Facebook was a billboard of your happiness that made me question my own.
Many of you probably didn’t notice I’ve been gone. I didn’t post that much before so the lack of my occasional update may have went unnoticed. And that’s okay too.
Perhaps that’s the progression of life. We were introduced, we served a purpose for each other, and then we both move on.
Let me put it a different way. What if life gives us characters, plots, and settings to curate chapters? And what if it’s unnatural and unhealthy to carry all of them with you into the next chapter. For example, do you want your future employer seeing those pictures from college?
Maybe you and I had our moment. You certainly left an impression on me or I wouldn’t be writing you now. I’m incredibly thankful for you. You helped shape who I am today. I’ll carry those memories with me always.
These thoughts occur regularly since leaving Facebook. I notice I daydream more. I am more appreciative of what is in my presence. My listening skills have improved. I’m generally happier about my life.
Like I said before, it’s not you. It’s definitely me.
So by now you are wondering why am I back?
As many you all know, Steve and I don’t have kids. It’s a deliberate decision for us but recently I started really thinking about my legacy. Call it a mid-life crisis of sorts. But if we don’t have kids, what I am leaving behind? My work is good but doesn’t live up to legacy status. My marriage is great but we will both be gone one day.
What really is the point of my life?
In late January, I found my life’s mission. By February, it had a website www.pinkmentornetwork.com, a career awareness organization for young women and teenage girls.
We don’t want to be better than other women. We want to make women better.
We won’t be belittled or shamed for being a woman.
We are keeping score of PINK lives impacted and improved. We will maximize female mentor opportunities and improve the sisterhood of past, present, and future professional women.
We will get stronger, smarter, better by learning from each other. We empower women one experience at a time.
It’s all in an effort to make young women aware of the careers that are available to them. My generation, and those before me, share their professional experiences to give our daughters, sisters, granddaughters, and all future businesswomen a professional head start.
So the short answer is I came back with a mission. I appreciate Facebook’s value and understand its power. I came back here to work.
The goal is to collect 5,000 professional experiences by July 1. And then, organize them into programs and content that “Give Her Career a Head Start”.
Men: If there are fabulous women in your life whom you admire each day, please share this message with them. Sometimes we need to be reminded of our greatness.
This Facebook post probably has an expiration date because shortly I will deactivate my account again. But I wanted my friends to know, I’ll be here now.
Your Friend, Stacy Cassio