Facebook status: I am totally out of my depth

I am late. About 10 years late, actually.

As Facebook celebrates its 10th birthday, I have finally decided to join up. I had to – even my Mum is on Facebook. She swears she never goes on it, but how come she knows that some relatives are “never off it … and why some people want to show off and share their every thought like that ...” etc? Hmm. She might not post, but she certainly looks, that’s all I’m saying.

Anyway, so it was, last week, that I clicked on Facebook, chose a password, entered my personal details (age, sex, where born and now live, job) and found myself on a page that might be my news feed or might be my timeline, or might be both. I handed my laptop over to my daughter, who found me a few family, friends and colleagues, sent out invites and soon I was befriended and even liked for begging folk to be patient.

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So far, so good. Sort of. Because Facebook has sort of unsettled me. In the years that my children have used it, I’ve barely glanced at it. If I have, they’ve clicked away from the page. Best not to know, I reckoned.

I’m not a techno-phobe. I like Twitter and spend all day alternating laptop, iPad and phone. But I’m out of my depth on Facebook.

A few days after joining, I clicked on a button marked ‘Events’ … and panicked. Yikes. It’s got birthdays. With ages.

Not all ages – closer inspection revealed that men tend to show their age, while women tend not to. Except my brother, who’s 44.

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Now, I had no idea, when I typed in my personal details, that these would be shared. I don’t want to know when it’s my birthday, and it took me hours to work out how to make it totally private information, to me only. I just hope it hasn’t sent out an alert, because it seems to do that whenever you change a personal detail: “Stephanie Smith has updated her profile – she no longer has a birthday, or an age. She is officially ageless.”

I wouldn’t know if it had. I’ll get used to it, but right now, Facebook is making me feel inept and exposed. There are positive aspects. My soon-to-be-45-year-old brother lives in Prague and he’s never off it, so I’m up to speed with his life, at least.

Predictably, my teenage children are refusing to be my friends. I was toying with the idea of a regular series of posts entitled “My kids do the funniest things”, with pictures, first sending out requests to all their friends, but now I think not.

I mentioned it to my son and he just looked at me in amusement and said: “Well, you can try.” He didn’t have to point out that he’s got far more embarrassing stories about me than I have about him. With pictures.

Nana and Granddad’s golden wedding anniversary party. That’s all I’m saying.

Twitter: @yorkshirefashQ

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