- I’ve had the same conversation about leaving Facebook throughout the years.
- I can’t do it because I’ve found support groups that help me being an adoptive mom.
- Facebook mom groups remind me that I’m not alone in what I’m going through.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve seen the same conversation play out on Facebook over and over again — “I’m leaving. Find me on Discord, Slack, Mastodon, or whatever platform the cool kids are flocking to now.”
And every time, I have the same reaction. Mastodon? Is that a dinosaur? Discord? I don’t know how to use that. Am I a dinosaur?
For several years now, I’ve pondered deactivating my account. I worry about the privacy of my data, and the new fact-checking policy is concerning at best. Most of all, however, I think about the giant time vacuum Facebook can become and the implications for my mental health. Loneliness is an epidemic in our country, and if I’m not careful, my minutes on social media make me less connected, not more.
Even with these concerns, I stay.
I stay for the mom groups
I’m not staying because of Marketplace, although we bought a great used car for our sons there. I occasionally peruse listings to see if I can retire soon after selling my collection of Holiday Barbies. But no, Marketplace isn’t enough for me to stay.
Similarly, it’s not the “On This Day” feature keeping me there, although I worry about my lost data when/if I exit. I started using Facebook not long before our family grew through adoption, and many sweet moments of those early family days are preserved on Facebook, like when my son called me “a robot with a heart” because I was good at trivia.
I certainly don’t stay for the political drama, insensitive trolls, or bizarre targeted ads.
I stay on Facebook because I’ve found niche groups for moms that can’t be replicated in real life.
They’ve helped me through so much
When I became a first-time mom to a 7- and 8-year-old through adoption, I joined two Facebook groups of moms I met through our agency and the early blogging world. These women quickly became my closest friends.
We shared Ethiopian recipes, bedtime tips, travel advice, and more. Several of us have connected in person, deepening our friendships and introducing our spouses and children. Our kids are teenagers and young adults now; our concerns have shifted to college choices, driver’s licenses, and perimenopause. Some of our connections have waned, but still, these women walked with me through some dark days, including my experience with post-adoption depression. Their friendship is invaluable to me.
Those adoption groups were my on-ramp to the amazing world of Mom Facebook.
When our family relocated from Iowa to Saint Paul, Minnesota, I found community in a group for local moms of teens. Like pioneers on the Oregon Trail, forging a path without a map, we parented through the pandemic — armed not with supplies and survival skills, but with cheeky memes and words of encouragement as we blundered through online school. This group is a highly specialized search engine, a Google on steroids, answering these questions and more: “Where should we sign up for driver’s ed? Where are your kids buying pants these days? Any great intel on landing a job at the state fair?” These moms are smart and responsive, and because it’s a local group, we are lucky enough to connect in person, too.
I stay afloat because they support me
Most recently, I’ve joined a group for moms of young adults dealing with epilepsy. This stage of our parenting journey feels like being blindfolded and thrown into the deep end after eating too many doughnuts. I’m staying afloat only because of these other moms. We discuss medicine changes and side effects, driving laws, and disappointment.
While I have several supportive “real-life” friends, it’s so refreshing to communicate with others who get this unique and challenging season. “Me too” and “Same” are life preservers.
I’m sure there are Facebook groups for moms who have kids with autism and kids who play the ukulele. Soccer and vegan moms can find their community, as can new moms, old moms, and everyone in between.
On a platform that often feels isolating, Mom Facebook reminds me I’m not alone.
I’ve greatly decreased my Facebook use by deleting the app from my phone, and I’m much more conscious about what and where I’m posting. Still, I’m here (for now) connecting with other moms on a similar parenting road.
At least until someone teaches me how to use Discord, or I learn what a Mastodon is.
