You never read anything good about Facebook. In fact until two years ago, the impression I had gained from everything I had read about it was so poor that, if the ghost of Christmas future had told me I would one day be an active participant, I would not have believed him.
I am a writer and, like many writers, an introvert. I am also a very cautious person. I have always been hesitant to reveal much of myself. The kind of social interaction I am most comfortable with is the intense one-to-one discussion.
So why would Facebook, with its reputation for superficiality and promiscuous over-sharing, appeal to me?
It didn't. But one night I read the blog of a friend — an extrovert, an optimist, and a ready embracer of the new. I noticed a little logo in the right-hand column proclaiming that she was on Facebook, and I wondered what her Facebook profile was like. So I clicked, realised I would have to join in order to see it, considered, decided to join just to have a look around and then depart, and signed up.
I don't remember forming an opinion before I turned off the computer and went to bed that night, but I do remember that when I woke up the next morning I had about ten friend requests. Most were from fellow children's authors whom I knew either personally or by reputation.
It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. With Facebook, I mean — but also with many other people, some of whom I would never otherwise have met, some with whom I had already had some contact, but whose beautiful personalities revealed themselves to me more deeply in cyberspace. Some had simply read my books.
People say that Facebook is superficial. The truth is that everybody approaches Facebook in a different way. Part of the fascination lies in the differences. Some people tell you what they are doing from hour to hour — and even those ordinary things, what one friend is cooking for dinner, what another friend's three-year-old just said, I find delightful.
Some people post links to reviews or to articles on subjects they find interesting: I love this! Many people, including myself, share music videos from YouTube. How delightful it can be to be reminded of a long-forgotten song, or to discover that a Facebook friend has similar musical taste!
Some write progress reports on the novel they are writing. And others share their lives — their frustrations and achievements, their griefs and joys — in a way that gives much insight, inspires much compassion, and deepens one's appreciation of the human journey.
I have followed the story of a friend who took responsibility for a tribe of stray cats living in a vacant lot next door to her. I have read of the pain and frustration of a friend caring for a terminally ill parent. I have shared in the anniversary of a beloved child lost to cancer. And, in cyberspace, I have had the joy of attending several beautiful weddings.
You have only to say something a little fragile on Facebook, or even to be absent for a while, to attract well-wishes, warm support, queries about your welfare and even personal offers of help. I have found it an immensely supportive community. And if you share an achievement — the publication of a book, for example, or a good review, you are showered with encouragement and affirmation.
There is also a lot of talk about cats and other furry animals. But in my view there is nothing trivial about this. The beauty and charm of kittens, or of new born animals, is a shared short cut to joy.
In short, I haven't had so much fun in years. And I have never felt less alone.
I don't see what is 'inauthentic' about this.
Facebook has changed me. I remember I once found it difficult to cope with the idea of having a photograph of myself in a public space. I am less private than I used to be. But my personal standards concerning behaviour towards others haven't changed at all.
A couple of days ago a headline on an opinion piece in the Sydney Morning Herald declared: Etiquette of cyberspace is simple - there are no rules. But there are rules: the rules you impose on your own behaviour, which in the end are the rules that count most.
I have been lucky in my real-life friends who are on Facebook, and in the friends I have encountered there — other people are less so. And of course, like anything, Facebook can be used for bad, even evil. But any suburban kitchen is full of implements that could be used to injure. Most people use them to cook.
Cassandra Golds is a Sydney-based author of children's fiction. Her most recent book is The Museum of Mary Child.