From Lifeline to Letdown
How Facebook once helped me stay connected across oceans and communities, and why it’s time to chart a new course.
I joined Facebook in February of 2008. At the time, I was just graduating from culinary school and was about to step into the world of yachting, where I would work as a chef while traveling to places I never imagined I’d see. Suddenly, my life was shifting from the familiar rhythm of kitchens and classrooms to a blur of ports, foreign markets, and seas that seemed endless.
It was exciting, yes, but also isolating. And that’s why Facebook quickly became more than just a novelty for me. It wasn’t just a way to scroll and pass time; it was a lifeline. A way to stay tethered to the people and places I cared about, no matter where in the world I was.
It helped me hold onto my roots in Minnesota, too. That was where I came out, where I met some of the most amazing, confident gay men, who taught me more than they’ll ever know. The gay scene in those years was alive, vibrant, and affirming. It gave me confidence and community at a time when I needed it most. I built friendships there that remain invaluable, and some that are still close to this day.
But in contrast to those years, it has become more and more apparent that things are shifting in a direction that makes being out and open risky again. The sense of safety and celebration I felt then doesn’t always carry into the present. And while Facebook once felt like a place where being myself was not only possible but welcomed, that feeling has changed. The climate is harsher now, and the openness that once felt empowering sometimes feels like exposure.
In the past couple of years, and most sharply in these past nine months, Facebook has become the hardest of all platforms on my mental health. Too often I’ve logged off feeling upset, angry, or drained. And I’ll be honest, I’ve added to that problem myself. In moments of frustration, I’ve posted and shared things that weren’t good for me, and I know they weren’t always good for anyone else either.
Recently, I thought about going back and cleaning up the mess, sifting through years of posts to try and repair what Facebook had become for me. But the truth is, that feels overwhelming. And so I’ve chosen something simpler, something healthier… I’ll be deactivating my profile in the coming days.
This doesn’t mean I’m disappearing, or that I’m done telling my story. Quite the opposite. My writing continues here on Substack, where I can share the longer, more personal reflections that matter most to me. I’ll also keep a presence on the Open Road Adventures Facebook page, a space that makes it easier to stay connected with friends and family who want to follow along. And Instagram — well, I know I need to get better at posting there. It’s the perfect place for the smaller moments: the wag of Chase’s tail, the road unrolling ahead of our travel trailer, the quiet glow of sunset at the end of a long day.
What makes this decision difficult is letting go of the rhythm that’s been part of my Facebook life for so long. The groups, the features, the casual daily interactions — they’ve been part of my experience here, and I’ll miss them. But what I’ll carry with me most are the people: family, friends, and connections from so many chapters of my life who have filled this feed with encouragement, laughter, and love. Choosing to step away doesn’t erase that. It just asks me to hold onto it in new ways, in spaces that feel healthier and more intentional.
If the open road has taught me anything, it’s that leaving one route doesn’t mean the journey ends. It just means the scenery changes. And right now, that change feels necessary. There are always new ways to find each other, and new places to gather along the way.
So while this is a goodbye to my Facebook profile, it isn’t a goodbye to connection. I hope you’ll join me here on Substack, on my page, or on Instagram as I keep sharing stories from the road. Because in the end, it’s the stories — and the people we share them with — that matter most.
– R. Michael
However feels the most natural and safe for you, I hope you’ll either subscribe here on Substack (for free) or follow my Facebook Page R Michael or on Instagram @openroad_rmichael (I promise I’m going to get better at posting there).





I get it!.
On his title track album back in 1964, Bob Dylan sang about what you have experienced - "The Times They are a-changin."
I'm still living in the 80's so I'm unsure how to proceed "following" you on your adventures. Since I get this in my email bucket, does that mean I'm on Free substack? I'm not a Tweeter or Instant anything these days. Gerry in Oregon