It's not me, it's you

Oh Facebook, this is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

I’ve been in the throes of infatuation ever since we first hooked up a few months ago. I know it hasn’t been that long, but you became such a big part of my life so quickly. The early days are always so thrilling aren’t they? I couldn’t get enough of you. When I wasn’t with you, I was thinking about you.

I was already writing a post in my head in which I was going to talk about all of your great qualities. I was going to go on about your sentimental side and how you got me all misty-eyed by providing pictures of former high school classmates cooing over their babies. I was going to thank you for brightening my melancholy mood yesterday when you reminded all my friends to wish me a happy birthday.

And then there was your sexy side. You really did it for me, you know? You made me feel like a schoolgirl again, so young and hip. When I was with you I wasn’t just some mom trying to keep up with the cool kids. I was popular! I had almost 100 friends! I was hanging out with modern technology’s greatest social networking system!

But then today I heard something about you. Something that made me think maybe you’re not as down with me as you had led me to believe.

I heard that Facebook thinks that breastfeeding is obscene.

I didn’t believe it at first. It’s just gossip, I told myself. Facebook is way too progressive, too modern, too globally sophisticated to delete personal photos of moms breastfeeding their babies. It was all about breaking down traditional barriers to communication, it wouldn’t just disable the accounts of women who asked for an explanation.

It just didn’t seem like something the Facebook I knew and loved could do. It just didn’t jive with the edgy, modern face that my Facebook presents to the world.

I mean, I’m not blind, I know you had your faults. You’re younger than me, you can tend towards the silly, the lurid, even the profane. But I was cool with that. I always knew about the skanky girls who hang around your pages and flash their goods and I’ve never liked it, but I figured you’ve got to take the good with the bad.

But I’m not sure I can get past this breastfeeding thing. I want to love you again. I want to feel all tingly and connected, but I’ve always thought the truly cool were a little rebellious and all of a sudden you seem a little, well, prudish, a little corporate.

I guess what I’m saying is that I just don’t think you can give me what I need anymore Facebook. I have too much invested to just dump you on your ass, but I think we need some distance.

I’m going to start seeing what else is out there. I’m going to start broadening my definition of what’s hip and cool ‘cause I need to feel good in a push-up bra and a nursing bra and I just don’t think you’re mature enough to accept that.

Sorry Facebook, call me when you’ve grown up a little.