To break up with Facebook (when everyone says you shouldn’t)

This winter I quit my Facebook business page. There was nothing wrong with it. It was slowly growing and reaching more people. It sent traffic to my website and helped spread my writing.

But I noticed I didn’t like doing the work. I always postponed it, felt stressed about it and resented the time spent on it. It felt like time lost, wasted even.

I could see the benefits, and I could certainly hear the choirs chanting the truths of our time: You MUST use social media; it’s the BEST way to grow your business. It’s EASY and FAST and FUN. If you don’t use it, you might just as well be INVISIBLE. (I can still hear them.)

Well, I quit anyway.

The thing is, I started my own business because I wanted the freedom to decide when and where and how. If I do things that drain me just because other people say I should, then I’m not making use of that freedom.

There’s so much work involved in running a business and some of it is not optional — bookkeeping, website maintenance, administration and taxes and what not. (Yes, you can and should delegate such things but you’re still the one in charge. If it’s your business, you’re responsible for all of it.)

Why add to that load?

If you have a choice — and you do, especially if you are your own boss — why spend your precious days doing things you don’t like?

This is a very important question, so give it a minute.

Why do you do it? (And it might not be Facebook for you, just apply the question to anything that you keep on doing even if you know it drains you.)

In my case the answer is fear, and I’m pretty sure that’s where you’ll end up too.

What if they’re right? What if I quit Facebook and I become invisible and my business dies a slow, painful death?

What if I miss out on something?

What if I lose the connection to all those beautiful people (and become utterly alone)?

What if I change my mind and it can’t be undone?

What if.

It’s all very human. We’re afraid.

I’ve had my private Facebook account for about eight years now, and I use it sparingly, mostly for keeping in touch with all the creative business people from all over the world that I’ve met and connected with online. Some of them I’ve never met outside of Facebook and I treasure our connection

It’s useful, no doubt. Especially right now, when I’m in the process of building an English-speaking audience.

And still, I think I’m about to quit that account too. I notice the same kind of stress and resentment posting, reading and spending (wasting) time there as I did on my business page.

I think maybe I just don’t like Facebook.

Fear says I should keep on doing it, that I’ll lose those valuable connections, that fewer people will find my writing, that I’ll feel alone and disconnected.

But I don’t want fear to make decisions for me. I’ll trust my gut on this one and take a long, sweet three-month brake from Facebook, starting at the end of this month. We’ll see after that. Either I’ll return refreshed or I’ll quit altogether.

Maybe I’ll spend some time on Pinterest instead, which I actually like.

Maybe I’ll write a few postcards to those people I want to stay connected to. (Remember how we used to connect before social media?)

Maybe you will spread my writing on Facebook, if it belongs there, or maybe it will find other channels.

Maybe I’ll be less distracted and more present for the tiny moments that make up my beautiful everyday life. Right here, away from the screen.

Maybe I’ll be happier, knowing that I’ve allowed myself the freedom to choose from love instead of fear.

Maybe my business will thrive when I have the guts to shape it the way I actually want it, instead of trying to mimic someone else’s version of success.

I think so.

P.S.
If you want some clarity on this, write an I can’t stand this-list. Think about your business or your project or your life and start listing what parts of it you hate, resent or dislike doing. Just get it all out. There will be a few things on that list that you truly can’t change or get rid of, but what about the rest? Notice the tendency to make it look like you don’t have a choice, even when you actually do. Notice the fears that come up when you consider choosing differently.