Like most people I know, I share links to my work on my Facebook page. I do this for two reasons: 1. I’m proud that I get to write about sex and music for such amazing websites; 2. I know the majority of my friends are on Facebook all day, so why not give them another little something to distract them from their jobs.
I’m well aware that sometimes my topics might be a bit unnerving for some people, but I just shrug my shoulders at the notion and move on to the next piece. I write very candidly and there are very few people in my life about whom I haven’t written in some thinly veiled way. I consider myself lucky to have had so many interesting people and experiences that have supplied me with mucho fodder for articles, stories, novellas, etc.
Having come from a small New Hampshire town where the majority of my high school class still remains married with children, Toyota Camrys and mortgages, I’ve always been weary about which friend requests I accept on Facebook. I’m not trying to ignore my past, but I just don’t think I have anything in common with those people – and honestly, I don’t think I ever did. Even at this moment, I have fifteen people from my hometown awaiting “friend request” acceptances that will never happen. The class president of my graduating class is a staunch Republican who vehemently opposes the idea of marriage being for anyone but straight Christians – just to give an example of the thought process of some of the people I’m referring to. I understand they are entitled to their opinions, but I also understand that these people don’t want to read my pieces on pearl necklaces and masturbation, so why bother?
Yesterday, I awoke to a Facebook message from a former classmate (high school boyfriend to be exact). The message said: “I’m offended by what you wrote about me. I’m unfriending you and blocking you.” I was stunned. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me when I would have wasted my time writing about him. I racked my brain. I went through all my stories and articles, and anything at all I had posted on my Facebook page in the last week or so. Still, I came up with nothing. I politely responded that I didn’t know what he was talking about, because I didn’t.
I called my sister and gave her a rundown of events. I didn’t even have to finish my story before she knew exactly where my “error” was – I had so very briefly mentioned him in my piece about taking a boy’s virginity, and in doing so I may have slightly alluded to the fact that since the high school boyfriend and I were virgins it was a bad experience and it would only be until later on in life that I realized just how bad it was. Basically, in a roundabout way, this can be misconstrued as he being bad in bed. Of course, this was not my intention. The story wasn’t even about him… it was about first times and how awful they can be – and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. My sister said I might as well have announced to the world he had a small dick because I technically insulted his manhood.
By the time I had officially realized what I had done, I had received another message informing me that what I write is offensive to [insert name of another person from high school] and they’re unfriending me, too. There was no time for me to come to my senses, compose a witty, snarky response that would bite him in the ass for being so small-minded and not having a sense of humor; before I knew it, I had been blocked by him. As far as the world of Facebook goes, he and I no longer exist in each others’ lives, our past together has been erased, and that’s that.
I wish I could say I felt bad, but I don’t. Instead, I feel rather grateful that Facebook as offered a forum where I, and people like me, can weed out people from our pasts who don’t approve of what we write, say or do. I’ve always been open-minded; I’ve always strongly felt that no topic should be off limits and that communication, in every aspect of life, is key. I also believe that you should write what you know; and I know this: My first love has blocked me on Facebook. However, that doesn’t change the fact that we did love each other when we were seventeen and we did lose our virginities to each other; and yeah, it kind of sucked.