I still can hardly believe what happened. One evening, my husband came home, sat down next to me, and said, quite seriously:
“Honey, could you maybe stop uploading so many baby photos to Facebook?”
I was standing with our daughter Greta in my arms after three hours of weighing and burping her, and I looked at him as if he’d just spoken in a foreign language.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, my ex-girlfriend always gets sad when she sees the photos.”
“Your ex?” My eyebrow shot up. “The one who dumped you for her personal trainer?”
He nodded. “Yes, but you know, she always wanted children, and it just never worked out, and…”
“Oh, the poor thing,” I interrupted. “It must be really hard for her to see MY child while she’s lifting weights with her steely-eyed trainer.”
He continued. “We have to be empathetic. She’s going through a tough time.”
And since when exactly have you been in such close contact with your ex that you know how she feels about my Facebook photos? I narrowed my eyes.
He blushed.
Well, she texts me sometimes. Just like friends.
Aha.
But I decided not to make a scene.
No yelling.
No tears.
I simply stopped posting baby photos.
Instead, I only uploaded pictures of MYSELF.
But not just any pictures: I slipped into the dress I’d saved for after the baby weight. I did my makeup like it was New Year’s Eve. And my cousin took some really great pictures.
First post on Facebook:
Me, laughing in the English Garden.
Caption: I’m rediscovering myself.
After two hours:
Likes. Comments. Private messages.
My husband:
Wow, honey, you look amazing. When did you actually take these photos?
Me:
Well, I had time now that I’m not allowed to post baby photos anymore.
Second post:
Me in a café, cappuccino in hand.
Caption: Sometimes silence speaks louder than words.
Comments from all sides.
The neighbor. An old school friend. Men who hadn’t shown any interest in me for years.
My husband:
Who’s that guy? Why is he sending you all these hearts?
Me:
No idea. Probably some Facebook contact.
Third post:
Me at the gym.
Caption: I’m putting myself first.
That’s when things got interesting.
One evening he was sitting on the sofa, silent, his phone in his hand.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“You’re posting quite a lot of photos lately.”
“And the photos aren’t a problem anymore, are they?”
“Yes, they are, but they’re only yours now! And so many men are commenting!”
“Oh?” I smiled. And should I really be considerate of how others feel? Be empathetic, right?
He was silent.
See, it’s not just your ex who can get sad from Facebook photos.
It took him a moment to realize it.
The next day, he blocked her.
Today, he’s asking me to post photos together.
As a family.
So everyone can see how happy we are.
I keep posting my pictures.
And pictures of Greta, too.
Because I can be a mother
And
stay true to myself.
Well, surprise, huh?
And now I’m wondering: Should I maybe add his ex as a friend and like her posts? Or would that be too much?
