So, Facebook Improves Confidence, Huh?

It is common knowledge among those that know me well that I’m a tad on the brusque and opinionated side. I have always been one who lives on instinct, and I have an innate sense of what right and wrong is—for me, of course. My life is an open, used, paperback book and I don’t meet many strangers.

One of my least favorite qualities about myself is that when I’m talked down to or humiliated, I don’t have an Oh, Snap! comeback on the spot. I am almost always taken aback and make light of it or otherwise pretend that it doesn’t bother me and just try to get through the awkward moment. I later think of the zinger I was looking for, and mentally thwack myself on the forehead for not being Johnny On The Spot with it. Strike while the iron is hot and all that. This is a long-running theme in my life that is not so cleverly disguised as a longing to be liked. I have always “suffered” from a deep need to be liked, and I try to be diplomatic about others’ opinions. If slighted by a boss, friend or family member, I excuse the other person mentally by saying “Everyone is entitled to their opinion.” Let me be clear: it’s a different story entirely for those that I am extremely close with (just ask my exes and my husband). Even with my siblings, who I am sure would wholeheartedly disagree, it takes me quite a while to gather up the courage to stick up for myself—that’s different than stating an opinion. I’m talking about when feeling slighted.

Thanks to thousands of dollars spent on counselors, relationship breakups, and yes—having kids, I am painfully aware that I have very few boundaries. Although I admit I have a twisted sense of humor, what I don’t have is confidence when verbally challenged or put on the spot. I tend to “take it” and just whimper away or pretend to laugh it off—the first 5 or 6 times. When pushed repeatedly, I will eventually push back, and when I do, I am very direct (and sometimes explosive), but I take a lot of guff and swallow a lot of pride first.

Recently, this story has been in the news about how Facebook users think Facebook has improved their confidence. I laughed when I read the article, and then over the next several days, I thought about how I have changed since I started using Facebook. When I started using Facebook, I was living in Seguin, a small town with not much to do, and feeling very much isolated from friends and music. I felt distant and dislocated and wasn’t even sure if I felt relevant in music. I joined Facebook at the urging of a friend. Slowly, people accepted my friend requests (no doubt begrudgingly at times) and I felt a small network of friends growing—even better, I was re-connecting with close friends whom I had no time to see. Information trickled in and I slowly began to feel comfortable. I started to know what was happening in the music scene in Austin and what was happening in the everyday lives of others. I felt like I had a bit of a social life again, even if I couldn’t afford a babysitter and the one hour drive to and from Austin to see friends and have a glass of wine. I had my wine at the laptop, and shared laughter through Facebook posts and chats.

Although I lost my singing voice for years, on Facebook, I found another voice. A voice of opinions, a voice that told jokes, a voice that chimed in on posts, often times trying to get someone to crack a smile or stir up some fun. In the two years I’ve been on Facebook, I’ve learned that it’s okay to express my thoughts—wacky as they may be—because I came to believe what I learned in singing: If you believe in what you are singing or saying, someone else out there will likely believe in it, too. It’s not about me having something important to say—far from that—it’s about me having absolutely nothing of value to say. Just jotting down little things that pop in my head, or updating my status with something I might say to a roomful of drunk girlfriends. I have gained some confidence in my voice—and in myself. I rarely second-guess myself anymore.

So, while I may have trouble standing up to someone in real life, Facebook has given me the chance to further cultivate relationships when I was at a physical distance from friends, and get my emotional, confident “sea legs,” as it were. I mean, getting tagged in photos alone is no easy thing to overcome when you’re over 200 pounds. I’ve learned that people who tag me in photos feel like they are doing me a favor, and I just let them sit on my wall. A little courage and swallowing pride goes a long way.

On Facebook, you have to grow a thick skin if you’re going to be yourself. I stopped worrying if I offended someone, and apologize when I do—for the most part. I know that my sense of humor or sarcasm are not going to match everyone else’s, and I’ve come to realize that it’s that way in real, living, breathing, human daily life as well. I’ve come to realize that it’s okay to have differences of opinion and to sometimes do a little wig-pullin’. Facebook is a good place to explore new friendships, strenghthen ones that seem to have legs to stand on, and even kill a few off that have been a long time coming.

Several years back (in my 40s believe it or not), I got into a heated argument with a friend I care about very much. I’ve known her many, many years and we had grown apart and there was tension between us—lots of quiet bickering and power plays. She was always tougher than me, and I was scared of her when we were younger. As an adult, I often had dreams of her bullying me as a kid and not being able to fight back; sometimes I would wake up crying—even in my 40s. When my friend and I got into this argument, we both said some very angering things to each other. We both had some pent up frustrations with each other. I was speaking up for myself for some things that I had “left unsaid,” and angered her so much that she hauled off and hit me across the face. Without thinking, I hit her back and we got into bona fide fight! Shoving, pulling hair, slapping. It was a surreal and no doubt not a good choice, but since that fight, I have not once had the sad bullying dream, and I think she and I get along much better now that I have stood up for myself.

Facebook is a very good place to get your feelings hurt – and to hurt others behind the cover of the anonymous internet. I recently got involved in someone’s thread that started out as just a regular old everyday complaint about Justin Bieber, and found someone soon piping in and making extremely derogatory, downright hateful remarks about him, going so far as to call Justin Bieber a faggot—with much hostility. Several people jumped on this guy’s case, and he defended his right to call him that because he himself was gay. My inner sense of “right and wrong,” which I admit is open to interpretation, kicked in and I jumped all over this guy. It was a bloody knock-down, drag-out on the interwebs! Whoda thunk I’d be taking up for The Biebs?!

Recently, I found my boundaries crossed again. Someone posted something to me that I felt was hateful, and I called him on it, in a big way. I said some things to him that I’d been wanting to say for a long time (see the common thread here?) but had never had the guts. I wish instead of letting it get to this, that I was able to simply draw boundaries and let people know when they cross them. It turns out that I made a terrible mistake and I found myself apologizing to this man and realizing I had judged him too harshly. I felt relieved that he accepted my olive branch. Later, the same night, a longtime friend sent me a message about something I had posted on her thread. She was polite and open about the fact that she was not comfortable with what I had said—something I wish I had the balls to do. It wasn’t anything blue or racist or political – it was just something she was uncomfortable with. However, this person has unknowingly hurt my feelings in the past and, surprise, it reached a head. I decided that it was not only appropriate to reply, but that I needed to let her know she had hurt my feelings on this and other occasions, but that I had let it pass.

Am I growing cranky? Less tolerant? Or am I simply starting to draw the line in the sand? And what has given me this confidence? Is Facebook confidence real or false confidence?

I don’t know the answer. I do know one thing: for me, if I want to speak up when my boundaries are crossed, but I don’t because “things are better left unsaid,” then I should probably go against my fear and confront the mini-circumstance before it turns into a knock-down drag-out—or worse, an internet fight, where the entire world can have access to your words. As silly as it seems, I think Facebook has definitely given me confidence. I’m more confident about what I say, I usually mean what I say, and, most importantly, I have time to gather my words and edit them before hitting the Send button. Once you hit the Send button, there’s no turning back, so be prepared to back it up.