Smacked in the Facebook

I’ve just recently lost my Facebook virginity. It happened a few months ago, but I’ve been in denial. I created the account using my secondary (read: hardly checked, used only for esoteric Yahoo lists about traditional eating and food allergies) email. Then I just ignored my page.

When I checked back during vacation in July, I was astonished to see that the first boy I ever kissed had somehow found me, as did an old high school classmate who asked the very good question, “What path did the women’s studies degree send you on, outside of motherhood?” Bless her for honoring mothering as connecting to feminist theory, but seriously, I don’t know the answer.

The question is too spot on. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my degrees. Or even what I really did with them before my son came along. The issue of my identity is up for grabs. I can’t keep track of how many layers of me I’ve pushed aside or trotted out only to find it didn’t fit right or had shoulder pads or something. Well, maybe there’s the answer — women’s studies taught me that identity is never fixed but is always contextual and contingent. I think that was Joan Scott or someone else from Feminists Theorize the Political. Did I keep that book?

And besides the issue of who I am now, there’s also the matter of all the drama I’ve been carrying around in my head about high school being revealed as, just, well, kind of invented. People I assumed thought I was a snob or attitude for not staying in touch are writing me little hellos and I’d-love-to-hear-how-you’re-doings. It’s like 15+ years of imagined tension have somehow vaporized with a few little pixels.

Now, I don’t know what would happen if I actually went to a reunion or saw anyone in person. But maybe really nothing. Maybe we’d just have conversations. Maybe it would be nice to connect with that part of my history.

For now, I’m still keeping it all at an arm’s length. I don’t have the time and mental energy to devote to this recultivation right now. But it’s a trip to know who all is out there. And I hope I don’t seem like a total snob for not replying and updating my wall and sending and accepting green patch plants. Just give me a little more time, okay? Half a lifetime isn’t quite enough.