I popped in for a quick check on the latest update from my book club and then there was this “suggested post.” (Which I then wrote over in red in the attached image, to express my displeasure.)

FB, you often try to “suggest” pages to me, and I always, always, always ask you to put them away and never show them to me again.

I know you have all sorts of crazy algorithms telling you everything about me and who I like to creep and which photos of people I barely know that I linger over for too long… so why don’t you get that I hate everything you try to suggest to me? Here’s something you could suggest that I might like: CHEESE. Or TAYLOR SWIFT. Or POODLES. It’s not like I’m hard to please.

And aside from the suggested pages, you also try to get me to click on ads for sites selling engagement rings and wedding photography even though, if you read between the lines of my FB activity or spoke to me for one blinute (one billionth of a minute), you’d know I have very complicated feelings about the whole business of marriage.

And so, y’know, I feel like you’re a bit of a dum-dum when it comes to trying to sell me things. But since you’ve been a dum-dum about it, I haven’t been too angry. You just don’t know any better. You’re too duhhhh.

But now THIS? THIS?! You’re trying to make me hate my body/objectify this stranger/encourage other women to hate their bodies by “liking” a page that you deign to suggest is “inspiring”?

That girl was friggin’ gorgeous at 139 lbs. She looks malnourished and frail in the supposed “after” shot. Not to mention the fact that her eyes now appear dead and cold like the bleak winter in which your evil suggested page extends its gnarly claws.

This post made me feel physically ill and physically angry.

I am furious you put this in my consciousness.

Can’t a girl just check in on the status of her book club without being told to hate herself anymore? Seriously. No humour here. Just. Really. Asking.

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