IT WAS December 22, 2008, when I opened my Facebook account at the invitation of Arlyn, a law school classmate. This was more than four years after Mark Zuckerberg and his peers first introduced the online social networking service to their fellow Harvard students. A day after my name and ID photo cropped up in a blue-and-white corner of cyberspace, my cousin Danny Cadorna—whom I had not seen since he left for Japan in 1994—sent me my first-ever friend request. Soon, other relatives, friends, former classmates, coworkers, and even strangers requested to join my friends list. They say that most people who know how to use a computer and the internet have a Facebook profile. Unsurprisingly, in just a short span, my notifications swelled with requests to connect, play games, join groups, and "like" various pages.
Suddenly, I had a vibrant circle of friends with whom I could communicate whenever I wanted. I could connect with distant relatives, catch up with old friends, collaborate with work colleagues, and meet new people in ways more exciting than any other medium invented by man. I could even find updates from my high school, college, and other institutions from my past.
Still, I consider myself a moderate user; Facebooking is just a small part of my digital footprint. I have never subscribed to Facebook mobile alerts. Instead, I primarily use the internet to read and send emails, write for my personal blogs, download free e-books, music, and movies, read the news, and conduct research for my freelance jobs. When I do log in to Facebook, I stick to its original purpose: sharing a digital space with friends, communicating, and viewing their posts. I have never played its games, nor do I bother others with trivial "what’s-on-my-mind" status updates that might seem pesky or pointless.
I am simply not prone to heavy socialization. You will not see me spending my waking hours taking selfies or broadcasting my daily activities and feelings. I fiercely protect my privacy. I do not change my profile or cover photos every single day, nor do I antagonize anyone on my friends list, because I genuinely consider each of them a friend. I am highly selective about what I "like" and share.
Years ago, right after I got my first broadband internet connection, I used to spend hours dipping my nose into other people’s posts. I got sucked into a whirlwind of updates and data, becoming a jaded consumer of gossip ranging from Hollywood and local showbiz to my immediate neighbors. But just like with any other addictive substance—be it wine or coffee—I had to find a way to set healthy limits. Soon, I became disciplined about restricting my usage to a maximum of 30 minutes, once a day. I even took a long hiatus from social media by deactivating my account for three months when I was preparing for a critical exam two years ago.
What have I gained after more than five years of logging in? Quite a lot. Beyond basic communication, several distinct benefits keep me logging back on.
As a Digital File Storage
The things I post on my timeline, including shared links and tags, are well-preserved in my account. I can access or reshared them whenever I want, wherever I go. Facebook also functions as a personal bulletin board where I can post pictures and, on rare occasions, celebrate the achievements of my family. The very first photo on my timeline was of my son, Dudoy, taken during his elementary school recognition day. Most of my early photo posts centered on the one subject parents love to talk about, even with strangers: our children.
Over time, I have used my timeline and cover photos to showcase my best photography, focusing mostly on subjects outside my personal life. I treat my Timeline album as a portfolio of amateur shots for others to view. During Facebook's 10th anniversary, the network generated a "Look Back" video for me—a photo slide set to catchy music that compiled my most-liked photos, statuses, and life events. It was a potent reminder of how normal it has become to document our lives online. However, it also brought the realization that I must never overshare. I must remain mindful of data privacy because once information is placed online, control is lost, and that data can persist across the internet for a gazillion years. That is why I think twice before posting. As my children have grown older, I have tempered my posts about them out of respect for their privacy.
As a Venue for Interaction
I compare Facebook to a public square where you can chat freely with acquaintances. However, because it is a heterogeneous group of friends and colleagues, I follow a few unwritten rules: never say anything disparaging about another person; argue if necessary, but never to create a rift; share personal joy, but never to belittle others; and express opinions while respecting the perspectives of others.
Facebook is a bustling exchange of news, reports, and shared data—my own personal 24/7 tabloid. I can track global conversations, trends, and developing issues. Of course, a lot of it is useless data, negativity, or content that hurts people's feelings. I tolerate these things because I can easily discard them and log off at any time. I can join the comment section or remain silent, indifferent to what others might think of my silence.
In many ways, Facebook resembles a dap-ayan—the traditional public gathering place in an Ilocano community where people exchange news and opinions. A physical dap-ayan is a modest structure built of light materials where barangay officials hold meetings. It hosts more structured gatherings than a chance encounter at a neighborhood sari-sari store, and everyone with a right to speak may do so freely. Unlike the dap-ayan, however, Facebook allows for communication that is impersonal and not necessarily a two-way process. It lacks face-to-face interaction; one can occupy the space silently without anyone demanding feedback or a reaction.
As a Public Address System
Facebook is a highly effective public address system. I experienced this firsthand when I had to inform relatives and friends of the untimely passing of my wife. Exhausted after grueling hours at the hospital and painstaking arrangements with the funeral parlor, I lacked the energy and courage to make phone calls or send mass text messages. Instead, I posted a single status update. Within moments, loved ones across the globe were notified. Friends immediately sent back condolences, prayers, and support. That outpouring of love from friends, colleagues, and even strangers gave me immense strength during a dark time.
Facebook is undeniably powerful for announcements and press releases. People use it to broadcast published works, contest wins, reunions, anniversaries, and travels. It can also serve deeply personal quests; we have all heard stories of people finding long-lost parents, children, or partners by scouring Facebook profiles. Furthermore, it offers massive business utility due to its cross-platform reach, particularly for engaging customers who rely on social media for service.
As a Source of Entertainment
Facebook has increasingly evolved into a multimedia entertainment hub. I use it to watch movie trailers, read reviews, and view viral videos via YouTube links that bring a smile to my face, proving that life—both real and digital—can be full of fun.
However, I am careful to look for content from reliable sources. The platform is plagued by fake accounts, prank videos, and fabricated news flashes (such as false celebrity deaths) designed purely to farm "likes" through clickbait titles. If a source looks unfamiliar, I do not open it. I refuse to waste a single precious minute of my screen time on deception. Nor do I rely on Facebook games for entertainment; I align with those friends who post "I don't play video games" memes to ward off irritating app invitations. To get the most out of my day, I would rather log off, sit comfortably at home with a cup of coffee, and read a physical newspaper or a good book. Even so, I thoroughly enjoy the genuine jokes, witty memes, and funny anecdotes shared on my friends' timelines. In a sea of selfies and white noise, a humorous post is a breath of fresh air. I have a loose finger when it comes to liking those, and I regularly download the most creative and hilarious memes for my personal archives. Even if the platform defies the odds and avoids the forgotten path of Friendster, I will still have a wonderful collection of files to keep.
Social media often creates shallow connections, but they are connections nonetheless, and they can be harnessed positively when the time is right. Accept them for what they are—superficial links—and do not fret if someone unfriends or blocks you. Nothing beats genuine, real-world personal interaction. Those are the friends you can truly rely on, even if social media disappeared tomorrow.
Facebook can easily agitate you and trigger a wide range of negative emotions, including envy and depression. You can avoid this trap by refusing to compare your life to the curated profiles of your friends, or by not taking the sting of digital rejection to heart. A friend's post may be completely artificial or full of hot air. Without realizing it, many people check updates not to see how others are doing, but to evaluate how others view them. Experts informally call this "social media depression"—depressive thoughts directly linked to online habits.
It is far better to speak to a friend in person and celebrate their achievements face-to-face than to simply click a thumbs-up icon. Laugh out loud with them in reality rather than typing "LOL" in a comment box. You will find much more joy in calling someone directly on the phone than commenting on a status update or chatting with them through a screen.
We live in a curious era where people, especially the youth, dream of thousands of digital followers just to feel like they are in the loop. But if you choose to participate, remember to just be yourself. As Oscar Wilde beautifully wrote, "Be yourself; everyone else is already taken." Avoid being self-absorbed or overly focused on selfies; remain true to who you are and what you can become.
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