There I sat. Nervous, exhilarated, frozen. I’d debated for weeks whether I was ready to take this final step, and finally could wait no longer. This was it. I saved some photos, gleaned over my messages one last time, poked a friend. And with bated breath, I clicked the blue button and sealed my fate: my Facebook account was officially deactivated, and scheduled for complete and permanent deletion on October 25th, 2011. Every single pic, post, and poke since I first signed up in the winter of 2006—my freshman year of high school—was now gone.
It was a long and difficult road to this final solution. I’ve spent the better part of the past few months crashing into my twenties—trying to break from the warm bosom of my parents’ financial support, pecking at my dream profession with every gig landed and hand shaken, and reckoning with the decisions, emotions, and events that have defined my childhood and adolescence. It’s a strange period in one’s life: not yet an adult but nowhere near a child, wanting respect but not really deserving it, seeing the past so clearly while remaining so unsure about the future. Our current social……..
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