My Facebook is a cesspool of unwanted information. Whether it’s a paragraph-long status or a link to a BuzzFeed list called “20 things every 20-something should know,” my news feed always has something new for me not to care about. If Facebook didn’t occasionally facilitate conversations with people I’ve lost touch with, I would probably delete my account.
Despite the diverse range of immaterial Facebook posts, there is one particular breed that trumps the rest: the relationship post. Don’t get me wrong — it’s great if you have someone in your life who makes you happy. It’s also fine to celebrate that person by posting a few pictures here and there. Plenty of couples understand and implement relationship posting in moderation.
Then there’s the chronic relationship-posters: those couples who practice no restraint in posting novel-length declarations of love and commitment whenever their boyfriend or girlfriend does something mildly noteworthy. “So proud of so-and-so, he made his first omelet today! This is why I chose such an amazing and perfect man to brighten my life.” Please, spare me.
If the posts weren’t bad enough, the pictures accompanying them are worse. I know couples who upload photo chronicles of their painfully mediocre experiences on a daily basis. Derek and Jenny go to the zoo. Chris and Lauren kiss at Chipotle. Bonzo and Miffy file their tax returns. I can’t even check my messages without catching a glimpse of whatever today’s non-adventure was.
I realize this might seem a bit judgmental. Let me be clear: It’s not that I think chronic relationship posting is bad or wrong, I just think it cheapens something that is meant to be an intimate connection between two people. When you post every waking moment of your relationship on the Web, you take that connection and make it a public affair. Also, let’s be honest, most of these couples aren’t using posts as a medium to express their true feelings for each other. If that were the case, why wouldn’t they just give each other love letters? It’s more of a “Look at us. Do we look happy and well adjusted or what?!” billboard.
It’s all part of the “my life is so great” dog-and-pony show of social media. Chronic relationship-posters display the same exhibitionism as chronic selfie-takers. In some ways, even more so. Selfie-takers are just advertising the way they look. Chronic relationship-posters are advertising the fact that he or she has indeed found their “other half,” and their “other half” is just as enamored. It all seems a bit performative, and it transforms a relationship into an online brand.
Chronic relationship posts are also problematic because they often carry an undercurrent of territorialism. I always found it incredibly strange that attaching your name to someone else’s was a common dating practice. Why does it matter whether everyone knows you’re together? That you’re “taken” by someone else? Plus, there should be enough trust in place for the relationship to survive regardless of whether you’re branded with a big, online “property-of” tag. Some even take this concept one step further. They verbally and visually create a combined identity for the couples posting them. Separate people interacting in their own online social environments suddenly fuse together to form a weird, two-headed couple monster devoid of any autonomy.
Perhaps I’m being a bit hyperbolic here. I know it’s unfair to characterize all chronic relationship-posters as attention-seeking or possessive. After all, some people genuinely enjoy sharing all aspects of their lives on the Internet. Some people are so swept away by their boyfriends or girlfriends that they want to shout it from the rooftops (or do the 21st-century Web equivalent).
That being said, I recently read a series of World War II letters from soldiers to their wives and girlfriends. When comparing their subtle but incredibly profound words to the embellished proclamations found in relationship posts, it becomes clear which is more sincere and why. One was meant for a single pair of eyes, while the other was meant for thousands.
Namwan Leavell is a UF economics senior. Her column appears on Fridays.
