I’m Blocking My Parents From Facebook Right After They Read This Article

Dear Mom and Dad,

Hey! How are you guys? I hope you’re doing well. I’m doing fine myself and I’m sure you know that. After all, we talk a lot. We actually talk, just about, every day. You guys text me and I always text back. We text about food or coffee. I’ll always call you guys after good days and bad days. I tell you about important things that are happing in my life and vice-versa.Our relationship is refreshingly happy, considering I’ve known many people whose relationship with their parents is strained and uncomfortable. We know a lot about each other and I can say, with confidence, that there is little I’m keeping from you. So, I’ve decided to let you know that I’m blocking you from my Facebook forever.

I love you guys and I don’t want to take up too much of your time, so I’ll keep this as concise as possible. Mom, Dad: you guys aren’t great at the Internet. Heck, I can’t blame you for your lack of web competence. I didn’t even have Facebook until my Freshman year of college, so how can I expect you to have any sort of expertise? That being said, when it comes to simple acts like changing a profile picture or updating a status, you guys seriously suck. But, heck, we were born in different in completely different decades. Do you think I know how to drive a standard car? No. Do I know how to cook for myself or name a U.S. President before Ronald Reagan? Nope, not without Google.

Mom, you’re an incredible cook. Dad, you can parallel park like a boss and that’s impressive. But, when it comes to the Internet, you’re barely passing. D minus maybe. Mom, you often post what about what you think our dog would say if he could talk. Dad, you I’m fairly confident you don’t know where the comma key is.

You love sharing photos of me and my brothers, but–what you think is sharing is actually just uploading the same batch of photos over and over.

Dad. Pops. I’m your son and you’re proud of me. And I’m proud of you! You think I’m handsome. I wish all parents could support their kids and boost their confidence like you do with me! However, when you’re the very first person to press “like” on my newest photo and then comment “you are sooooo cute!” it makes me worry that people think we shower together. Again, totally normal for a parent to think his child is handsome, but using the word “cute” preceded by all the number of “o’s” in cute is reserved for people who want to perform fellatio on each other. And hey, I get it. A parent’s job is to be there for their kids, but I’m afraid the picture you’re painting of me is starting to resemble that of a home-schooled Mormon with serious penis issues.

We’re all on the same page here, guys. I love you deeply and you love me back. And I know that. I don’t doubt it for a second, so there’s really no need to like and share everything I post on my own Facebook wall. Again, it gives the impression that we all spend Saturday nights braiding each other’s hair by candlelight and watching a litter of puppies fight a little of piglets. This kind of Facebook relationship is for parents who practice polygamy and have 20 kids whose names all start with the same letter.

It’s not goodbye, guys, it’s a smack back to reality. My Internet persona isn’t the person you’ve known and loved for 26 years. You’ll no longer have to worry about the threat of suicide when I post sad lyrics and forget the citations. I won’t have to grimace anymore when I upload a flattering picture of myself and instantly think about how many people out there are going to think I’m into group massages and ponytails by your unwavering praise. I’m sorry, guys. But by the time you read this I’ll already be gone. I’m still out there online. There’s Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Flickr, heck I’m littering the walls of the World Wide Web! Just remember, though; if things get weird, you’re getting cut off. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Jeremy Glass is a Connecticut-born writer with a deep appreciation for pretty ladies, fast food, and white t-shirts.

Keep up with Jeremy on thrillist.com

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