Dear Facebook
Over the past year or so I have seen our relationship change.
Let me just start by saying that I have always liked you, but I’m not sure I was ever as committed to our relationship as you were. To be totally honest, I could see the potential and I didn’t want to let my family and friends down, so I persevered, even though you insisted on me watching so many videos and chewing up all my data.
Mostly, I thought, it was working out all right. But you can’t ever leave a fairly-good thing be, can you Facebook?
First you began deciding for me what I would and would not want to read from my friends and the Pages I had chosen to follow. What ever happened to all those updates I used to see from Bec & Call?
Your excessive need to filter what I did and didn’t see was bossy and patronising, but you did kind of have a point – there is way too much information pouring through your platform and it was much easier for you to just shut down a chunk of it than to offer something I might actually want, like proper curatorial tools or the capacity to use bold and italics in posts.
Open letter to Facebook - We's like to improve your news feed experience
You say you want to listen to my feedback and that you’d like to improve my Facebook experience, but do you?
So I gave you the benefit of the doubt and continued to invest my time in our relationship, but the change didn’t stop there now did they?
Open letter to Facebook - Your memories on FacebookNext thing I know you are rustling about in my timeline when I wasn’t looking and leaping out to wave old photos in my face because my life was so awesome I needed to share it TWICE!
Was that rainbow I shared 3 years ago really that good? Now that I see it again, I’m not so sure.
This all strikes me as a little unbalanced because on one hand you are stopping my friends and I from seeing so many of these future memories even for the *first* time, but you are more than happy for them to see 3 year old rainbows.
What’s that all about?
Not content with your occasional Personal Chronology Raid, you then started lurking around directly behind me more often.
You’re now collecting all my images, daily, and urging me to share, share, share.
And what’s with all this last link you copied stuff? Just because I copy a link on my phone, it doesn’t mean that I want to share it with the world like that guy lurking outside the station that shouts every random thought that comes into his head at the top of his voice to everyone that just happens to walk by.
Open letter to Facebook - Add the last link you copied
You even put on your Crazy Scrapbook Lady hat and make albums and slideshows for me to share. I suppose it’s because I must have been underestimating my awesomeness by failing to present it to the world looking pretty. With glitter. Oversize emoticons. And cut-outs!

So proud of my big girl presenting at show and tell at school today all about her holiday adventures. Especially loved it that she so desperately wanted me to be there to see her presentation. 🙂 #BartleyBritz
Posted by Loren Bartley on Thursday, October 8, 2015

And what’s with your push for me to set up Scrapbook Pages to share all the unforgettable moments that I spend with my children and pets? Surely you realise that I am not spending as much with them these days now that you have become so demanding.
It looks like what I am giving you is not enough. The more content I give, the more you want.
Talk about needy!
And yet – and this bit bothers me A LOT – you continue to extort money from me if I want people who have chosen to follow my business page to actually see ANYTHING I post there. Maybe if you stopped encouraging so much content, this wouldn’t be such an issue. Hey?
Which brings me to your most recent antics.
Your new daily greeting thing? Really? Can’t we go back to those days when you used to just ask me what was on my mind?
Open letter to Facebook - Hey there Loren
And what’s with all this “Yay Team” sport barracking stuff? I would’ve thought that you of all people, with your over active data analysis techniques would’ve known that I couldn’t care less if the Wallabies won or lost the World Cup. Have you ever seen me visit their Facebook Page? Like EVER? NO!
Open letter to Facebook - Go Wallabies
Please stop!!!
America embarrassed itself horribly already in this World Cup with the whole Haka Hijack thing and you’re just making it worse by pretending to care who wins. I don’t. And you don’t. So let’s just stop pretending.
It wasn’t fun at the beginning, and now it’s just downright creepy.
I know you try hard and that sometimes your heart is in the right place, like when you tried to get everyone to donate to organisations working in West Africa so they can save lives and stop the ebola outbreak.
Open letter to Facebook - Loren can you help stop ebola
But lately its all been a bit too much.
Go home Facebook.
According to my friends list (which you have capped at 5,000 people thank you very much) you are not my friend anyway.
I am kind of glad you’re not my friend, as if you were, then I am sure you would always be popping up as Nearby (just like my neighbour always does) seeing as though you are with me – like ALL THE TIME!
But the truth is that you are not my friend. In fact, you aren’t even on my suggested friends list!
Let’s call it as it is. You are my enabler.
So stop trying to creep me out on a daily basis and go back to rolling in your fields made of MY money. Or better still, start acting like a real enabler and starting making the things I want possible.
If you were to stop hanging around with me so much, then you could start spending your time working on more important things, like creating a way to allow bold and italics in posts. It can’t be that hard. After all, Google+ managed it (and quite a while ago too I might add).

So back off Facebook. You’re creeping me out and I don’t like it.
End of story. Until I post another status update that is anyway.
Yours faithfully
Facebook User
P.S. Don’t message me OK, because I don’t want to install your stalker like Messenger App to engage with you any further on this matter.
P.P.S. No, I won’t be leaving you for good. I wouldn’t dare do that, as I am not at all keen to see that cheesy shop assistant cheerio of yours (that seems to have recently replaced some of your prime advertising space) when I exit the building.
Open letter to Facebook - Thanks for stopping by

This post was inspired from a status update by Bec Lloyd from Bec & Call and adapted with permission by Loren Bartley.