Facebook. Mombook. Fakebook. I am sure there are other not so nice names to describe this social media outlet. Some love it. Some hate it. Some hate the ones that love it. Or, something like that.
FB is a great tool and fun pastime. It reminds you of your friends’ birthdays and let’s you “see” what is going on in the lives of your friends and family.
I’m not interested in living my life on FB. You won’t see me parade my relationships on here, either. I enjoy looking at yours, though: perfect gift, perfect flowers, perfect engagement, perfect children, perfect perfect. Everything is perfect. And, when it isn’t, you can toss it off as, “we are just wild and crazy guys.” Do these people look happy? Sure. Makes me wonder. Why are they trying so hard to convince everyone of same? I’m not buying it.
Mostly, I wonder if the problem is with me. I don’t want the entire world to know what I had for breakfast or where I am and whom I’m with. Sometimes I share – but, usually way after I have left. Why am I so secretive? Dunno. It is not like I have anything to hide. But, I just don’t want the world to know what I am doing and whom I am with. I was sandwiched in between the aluminum foil hats (and other things to keep the government out of my head) generation and the “hey, Amazon – let me pay you to spy on me” generation. That could be it.
Fb , like the cigarette people, did what they could to “addict” us. And it worked, for some. I don’t care about likes, shares, etc. they don’t define me. But, I think we all know someone who spends just a little too much time on there.
What does FB and other social media have to do with Heather Locklear? Read on, brave soul. The gist is – you never know.
Heather Locklear. Beautiful, bubbly, and living a seemingly exciting life. I always wanted to be her. She was cute and perky and she married someone from Motley Crue. I know, I wanted Nikki Sixx. Tommy was easily the best looking of the 4, but I only had eyes for Nikki. Look at her now – a few marriages, drunk driving, rehab, questionable 911 calls and trips to the “hospital”.
I am not sure what her demons are. Mine was divorce. There are probably lots of reasons she seems to be swimming in the bottom of the barrel. But, dang. Get up, girl. You sort of prove my point…you have millions, can still earn millions. She is even gorgeous in her mug shots. Only she could manage that. Family, connections, friends, she seems to have everything and yet, I think she has nothing. It’s sad, really.
For some, it is hard to have sympathy or empathy for rich and beautiful women going through hard times. When Tiger and Elan Nordgren split, I felt quite sad for her. I knew some of what she was going through. Losing so much is so hard. Choosing better instead of bitter can be a struggle everyday, depending on your situation. Maybe I picked myself up because I had to. Kids and bills.
I will be eternally grateful that when I was going through mine, the only things people saw on social media are what I decided what would be shared. I could portray any image I wanted. Poor Heather (any Elan and any other celeb), having to live her shame in front of everyone. When I was in the ugly stages of mine, total strangers would walk up to me and say, “you look like you need a hug”….how bad does someone have to look for strangers to want to help? I am very thankful that I did not have to do mine with headlines judging me and showing lovely pix of me in jail. Of course, I didn’t go to jail, but you know what I mean.
And you know what…people forget the stuff that I have done….hell, even I can’t remember everything I’ve done. I’ve learned to apologize, forgive, get better and move on. Celebs get to live it all again over and over in the immediate aftermath. But, God forbid they make another mistake. All new headlines with timelines of all of their past transgressions. Over and over – making another new story from the rehashing of old news. And, pictures. Ugh. I am glad there were no cell phone cameras to record all of my stupid moves.
It happened again. Another beautiful, but sad, mugshot. You know what would be nice? To quit talking about and rehashing how she and others fell apart. Let’s refuse to enjoy the torture by ink the rags are producing. Let’s refuse to do it to anyone. Let’s start talking about how we are going to help her get herself together again. Or, how we can support her and everyone else, while they are putting themselves back together again. Let’s cut her and everyone else who needs it, some slack. It’s hard, I know – for someone who looks beautiful even on her worst day. But, let’s do it. You don’t know what her life is like. Just like nobody knows what your life is like. No matter what it looks like on FB.