I Like You

I spent time cleaning my garage yesterday, nasty, dirty business.

It’s the catch-all of catch-alls but I loved how clean and organized it looked.

I left the garage door open so the husband would notice and validate the hard, hard work I had done.

But did he?  No!

So later I mentioned I would be sore the next day because of all the boxes and junk I had lifted.

Response?  None!  Fine.

I did not get a thumbs up or a “like”.

We want to be validated.  We want to have someone notice our work.  Whatever work it is.

The lovely table, the fine needlework, the weight lost, the job promotion, the vacation.

Facebook, like my open garage is the catch-all of our doings we share with the world.

Why do we want to thumb tack our lives on the internet bulletin board?

The right reasons are to share good things with friends.  Maybe share bad things.

It’s the picture album of our life’s tribulations, successes, talents or whatever.

But the I like you do you like me childishness?  If you don’t like me than I won’t like you either mentality.

Why do I care if you like me?

Because I want to be loved, admired, ooohed and ahhhed at, see the thumbs up, the pats on the back,

I want the little heart icon that blows kisses.

I want that damn “like” button turned on!!!

And that’s ok.  But we take a risk.  If someone puts something on Facebook, Instagram, twitter, no one has to like it, or love it and can openly bitch about it.  People love these forums to stir up contention and show how much they know, or embarrassingly reveal how little they know.  They can leave the “like” switch off to show us they just don’t care, or on to flatter you.  Who really knows?  When we put us or anyone in our lives, out there in the ether, why is there an expectation of thousands of I like, I like, I like?

Perhaps the reasons why we spend so much of our time allowing others to peer into our private lives should be explored.  If no one comments or floats the smiley icon no one needs feel rebuffed, unnoticed or invalid.

Sure I want to be recognized for my endeavors, a writer wants people to buy his books.

Sure I want to be complimented on my artistry, my craftiness, my style.  I certainly want to be admired for the things I post on this cliche’d 15 minutes of fame.

But like my garage, we won’t always get the accolades we want.  Our hard work may never be recognized.

And that’s ok.

  We can use Facebook to share a thousand journey’s but you travel that journey alone

and no one has to like it but yourself.