Stalker confessions

My name is Chris, and I'm a Facebook Stalker...

Most of my career has been spent in radio, which in my opinion, was the original form of social media.  Decades before Mark Zuckerberg and/or his minions coined the term, radio listeners often thought that the voice coming out of the speakers was a friend.  Many would call in for a chance to talk to their favorite radio personality, ask a question, share an opinion, participate in a contest.  Some deejays even had stalkers.  Radio allowed for two-way communication when other forms of media did not.

And then Facebook came along and changed the definition of social media.  Yes, it too allowed for two-way communication.  But the difference was that imaginary friendships on Facebook were sort of consensual.  The connections were real-ish.  (Yes, I'm telling you that the friendship you thought you had with your favorite radio announcer was probably not real.)

Not a lot of my friends and family had Facebook accounts at that time I created my page, and it was often the topic of conversation.  I would encourage them to get on Facebook because I had heard from long lost classmates.  I had connected with relatives that I hadn't seen since my mom's funeral years earlier.  While many people I knew were being cautious about putting their personal business out there for the world to see, I couldn't think of a good reason not to do it.  Sure, I got some friend requests from people I had no interest in rekindling relationships with, and some I didn't know, but I wasn't too concerned about stalkers.  Perhaps it was because I had mastered the privacy settings.  Or maybe it was because I thought the whole idea of stalking someone on a networking website was crazy.   Who had time for that?

Me, apparently.

Last week I was bored and checking out the news feed when I noticed that one of my "friends" commented on the post of an ex coworker (who is not my Facebook friend).  The last time I saw her was when she left the organization to have a baby.  I was curious, so I clicked on the photo.  It wasn't private.  There were a few more shots of a cute baby, and then I clicked on the "albums" link to see if there were more.  There weren't.  But there was a video that she had been tagged in.

I clicked on the video and became entranced.  It was a memorial for a 28 year old who died in a freak kayaking accident.  The video was a tribute to the handsome young man, and included scenes of his whitewater adventures, he and his girlfriend cross country skiing, and the two of them teaching their puppy to swim.  For almost 10 minutes the video played, and my heart broke at the thought of a life ended much too soon.  I felt genuinely sad.  I spent the next half hour feeling blue and looking for more information about a man I didn't even know.

Then it hit me.  I had become a sort of Facebook Stalker.  Not the kind that some of my friends and family feared (someone with an obsession for one particular person).  I was more of a passive stalker.  Someone who stumbled upon something intriguing, like interesting photos of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend, and got sucked into the life of a stranger.  I'm not sure whether or not the person who posted the video memorial intended for everyone on Facebook to see it.  It was beautiful, but it really wasn't any of my business.  And an open door is not always an invitation inside.

The video incident was quite an eye-opener for me.  I will no longer be spending my free time clicking mindlessly through the pictures of people I don't know.  Instead I will be attending Facebook Stalker Anonymous meetings, and hosting webinars for former victims on how to master privacy controls.