Weeding the Garden: A Lesson in Boundaries

I recently saw a Facebook message from the mother of a former girlfriend wishing Kid 2 a happy birthday. Incidentally, this message also got said ex-girlfriend on my mind for the first time in recent memory.

All of this brought me to one conclusion: it’s time to prune the garden again.

I’m sure a lot of social media users are guilty of this, but I have a tendency to “unfollow” exes without defriending them outright. For those who may not know, the beauty of unfollowing is that it allows you to remain “friends” without seeing them pop up in your timeline. But the rub is that you can still search for them. It allows you to keep tabs on someone, lingering in that gray space between connection and detachment.

The Digital Clutter

Needless to say, that birthday message prompted me to start pruning the friends list. The casualties included four women I’ve previously dated and two of their mothers.

But why do we do this? Why do we hang on to people like this? I think it’s because we want to keep a little remnant of a connection alive. I’ve talked before on this blog about how many people treat social media as if it is the act of socializing, rather than just a tool to facilitate it. How else can you explain why so many people think “unfriending” is ruder than a cold breakup text? It never ceases to amaze me how social media has rewritten the rules of human interaction.

The Standard for Detachment

Take “Ro,” for example. We went out a few times—I liked the idea of her, but the chemistry wasn’t there. She kept in contact, likely because she knew I was a decent guy. It reached a point where I was content just being acquaintances, discussing politics and life. Then, one night, she texted me while hammered, inviting me over. I told her I knew she didn’t really want to do that sober, and I had no interest in participating while she was drunk. She lashed out, claiming I wasn’t “a real man” because I didn’t make a six-figure salary.

I don’t remember my exact response, but I’m pretty sure I told her to go do something anatomically impossible. I immediately deleted her contact, wiped the message thread, and defriended her. I tore off the proverbial Band-Aid. I use Ro as my gold standard for detachment: be done with it, no hesitation.

Cultivating the Garden

So, why do we keep others around? We do it because we think there is still some potential of something blossoming again. Even though I’m the one who broke up with Jessica, I kept her on my friends list for years—even after unfollowing her. This morning, I finally made the clean cut with her and a half-dozen others.

But then, there’s Sierra.

If I had applied the “rip the Band-Aid off” approach to everyone, Sierra and I wouldn’t be talking right now. We met on the apps six years ago, but the timing was off. I got back together with X2—a colossally stupid decision at the time—and Sierra got together with a boyfriend I call Meathead. They lasted five or six years. Through that time, we remained in contact on social media, meaning we liked each other’s posts about kids and politics.

So, what is the answer? Rip off the Band-Aid, or keep people in your pocket as “friends with potential”?

Like so many other things in life, I think one needs to address this on a case-by-case basis. My rule of thumb is simple: Active communication is the differentiator.

Sierra and I were not just “friends” on Facebook; we were in active contact. Whether it was the occasional text about Tigers tickets or a conversation that spanned years, we maintained a thread of mutual respect. We may have demoted each other to digital acquaintances for a time, but the communication never flatlined.

The difference with people like Jessica, or others I pruned this morning, is that I’ve had zero active contact with them for years—beyond the occasional, hollow “like” on a photo of my kids. That isn’t a relationship; it’s just digital noise.

Then there’s the silence. Veronica has gone radio silent, even regarding the kids—a move that seems to violate the unwritten etiquette rules for parents who are at least casual Facebook contacts. When the connection dies, the digital tether should go with it.

Pruning is necessary. But you have to distinguish between the plants that are dormant and the ones that are just dead weight.

This is my second post for this “Curated Sunday.” Earlier this morning, I shared how I approach the question of my “favorite blogger” and why I’m so intentional about who I keep in my feed. Now, I’m digging deeper into the other side of that process: how I decide who to prune from my social life. You can read my earlier thoughts on curation right here: curating the feed: why I don’t have a single favorite blog

Rebuilding a life takes grit, consistency, and a lot of ‘Option C’ thinking. Having crossed the 1,000-day milestone, I’m now charting the territory beyond. The mission remains the same: No glitz. Just the work. New to the blog? Start your journey here to see the blueprint and the ‘Tricorder’ perspective behind the rebuild.

Today’s post is inspired by the WordPress Daily Prompt. While I’ve taken the topic in my own direction for the Road beyond 1,000 Days, you can find more responses to today’s prompt HERE.

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The article “Weeding the Garden: A Lesson in Boundaries” first appeared on Rebuilding Rob

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