This finally made it real how big of a deal being “Facebook Official” really is. You are declaring, to your entire world, that you are in a relationship with someone, allowing each of your hundreds of friends to click the name of your new significant other, judge your selection and conjecture how long you’ll last.
At the summer camp I worked at last year, one of my coworkers foolishly posted on Facebook that he was in a relationship with a camper. Smart, right? The 17-year-old counselor and 15-year-old camper could have dated in real life without any real repercussions, but because of the virtual announcements, the situation blew up. As rumor has it; he’s not being hired again next year. All because of a silly relationship status.
Changing your status to “In a Relationship,” means living out your relationship in the public eye. Not only will everyone see when you’re “official,” but also when you break up — along with the string of “omg, I’m so sorry!”s from your friends.
Not to mention, breaking up through a changed relationship status has become the all-time lowest way of getting dumped (it even beats the 20-character text). Worse yet is the story of Emma Brady, who found out through a Facebook update that her marriage of 12 years was over.
This one Facebook option is rocking our love lives. People use it to project their most desired image, just as men upload pictures of them standing with a bunch of girls to seem more desired (but we know the truth — those are his cousins). Friends jokingly say they are “married” to make themselves look like they are not living poor, desolate love lives. Being “engaged” to your BFF has become the adorable thing to do, but even then, when someone breaks off that fake relationship in exchange for a real one, feelings are hurt.
By announcing a couple’s commitment to each other, Facebook adds pressure to young relationships by making it so public (even if it’s the pressure that many girls want and have been asking for). It’s a way of making things real. When college students find someone that makes them smile — despite the three midterms they have yet to study for — they want legitimacy, or at least proof that it won’t vanish tomorrow. It’s the modern equivalent of getting “pinned” in the 1950s, where the man pins his school pin to his lady’s cardigan to show the world she’s taken. Pins are too old school for our generation, so instead we turn to what we know best: the Internet. It’s emotional security; and this security is certainly case sensitive.
