Personal Space, not Myspace

"Why did you delete Myspace?"

This was the first text of the morning that I received, from Sarah of all people. Of everyone on my "Friends" list, I give her kudos for being so observant. I was still surprised that she'd be the one to show genuine surprise and concern, however, considering we have exchanged handwritten letters as well as phone calls for far longer than either of us has belonged to the Myspace community. I replied right away, letting her know that I had simply tired of Myspace, and reacted by bidding the guilty addiction "Farewell." Her fear of losing my Myspace friendship could have a lot to do with her recent marriage and change of scenery by one time zone's difference, but I'm on a mission to prove wrong the fear that she has of losing touch without cutesy photo comments and bulletin posts.

I had to delete the Myspace. Slave to its constant revision, the right mixture of snazzy layouts and accurate descriptions of the many facets of my personality never presented itself. Musical taste was yet another battle -- deciding on a single song as a soundtrack to the image I desired people to walk away with became either too much work, or too easy, depending on the sarcasm or depth accompanying my mood on any given day. If none of those reasons seem like reason enough, the fact that I'm even writing about it makes me cringe a bit.

Beyond the somewhat superficial reasons listed above, there are yet other reasons, which can all be boiled down to the "Sense of Being Stared At," since that's a most fitting phrase (and, coincidentally, the title of a book which is required reading for me in about 2 weeks). The last relationship I found myself in (for the third time around, but I'm trying to avoid tangents here) was completely ended on the basis of Myspace status, due to a young man's lack of skill in the communication department, among other things. During this 4-day stint of single/in-a-relationship/single run-arounds, I noticed just how often people do, in fact, peek around at these details, and pry open the door to more information. Although we are all a little vain, and therefore find it somewhat flattering that these easy-to-read windows into our lives paint us as hot commodities at times, the glitz of being watched fades away quickly. As I began to date someone new, I began to wonder just what our particular "status" was, and I wondered even more whether I'd be so eager to know this without Myspace on the brain.

More than being watched, Myspace gives me such a feeling of accessibility. Some are keen on this, and I understand the excitement of someone's requesting you to be his/her "friend." I'm not alone when I say that it's flattering to know that someone searched around or stumbled upon your profile and wanted to befriend you, the idea goes back to the very beginnings of our social interactions as children, "Will you be my friend?" The fact that someone can sit around for days, weeks, months, even years, and just know you're out there to contact, easily, if he/she ever decides to do so: Not so flattering, not at all.

If someone really needs to get in touch with me, that person will find a way. It's not a fairy tale world I live in, I do believe that people can seek out one another without the aid of social networking tools such as Myspace. If it works for others, they ought to keep on with it. I will prove that I won't just disappear.