Kiki noun. Definition: An assembly or meeting, especially one held for the specific purpose of gossiping or chit-chat. "Let's have a kiki!"



My Facebook Friends list is small, just the way I like it. A cute little niche under 300. I either consider them close friends, family or people that I’ve only met online. Best of all, I find them entertaining…. in a good way. Unfortunately, it never used to be like that, so I’m glad that I decided to perform “The great Facebook cull”.

This social media thing is a great way to stay in touch with people. Especially as my family size increased and work became busier, however, it took a sinister dive.

Friends who’d stopped talking to me in real life would pop up now and again to ‘like’ pictures of my kids.
I was accused of giving away a gift that I was given because I’d bought the same thing for a friend who thanked me on Facebook.
A “friend” sent me a text message (by mistake) saying that I was posting pictures on Facebook to make her and certain “friends” jealous.
Pictures surfaced of that hen do. The one that I was invited to a year in advance, then mysteriously uninvited to.
Constant whining from the depressed one who seemed to be ok whilst sharing pictures from the many holidays she took whilst being signed off of work for over a year.
The Halloween party that I didn’t want to go to, and thank God I didn’t as pictures appeared of “friends” in Blackface… A blackfaced Gloria Gaynor in a tinsel wig and a Blackfaced Stevie Wonder in a dinner-suit. Uncanny!

No, I didn’t sign up to this Mark Zuckerburg. Why did you lie?

This isn’t fun, this isn’t engaging. I’ve hung out with you and I see that you’ve liked Britain First’s page and you’re sharing their tripe. Your updates are cringeworthy coke face-chewing crap filled with grammatical errors and what you think is “street talk”. We dated, now you lurk around my page… I see ALL of you.

The last straw, the final nerve was THAT bride. A friend asked if I could do her makeup for her wedding day. (This was back when I worked as a freelance makeup artist). She was known in our circle as “the difficult one”. Due to that and the fact that she lived quite far away I politely declined. She then text me saying that she’d JUST looked at my website (for the first time) and REALLY wanted me to do her makeup now that she had seen what I could do. I felt somewhat guilty for saying no, so I said yes. You know, you should listen to your gut. Your gut knows. *Sigh*.
As I didn’t drive and lived no where near her wedding location I asked if she could sort out my travel and after the wedding provide a professional picture accompanying a testimonial. She agreed. The day before the big day, I had a miscarriage. Now, if you’re unlucky enough to have gone through the same thing, you’d know it’s not just something that happens in a day. The process can last a week or more and obviously you’re not at your best, feelings wise. Nevertheless, I sucked it up, ignored my hubbys wishes to cancel with apologies, I went to do her makeup. I got the train to her house, turned up with a smile, did her her makeup and she looked flawless. She asked me why I wasn’t my chirpy self and I explained. Hugs were exchanged and I left. On the bus, to travel to her wedding location. Over an hour away. On the bus.
Hubby and I put a brave face on and laughed, took pictures and had a few drinks. I put the incident behind me, the dizzy friend forgot to sort out travel, thats ok, we know she’s a bit silly, never mind! It was a nice day, we had the pictures to prove it and a dress that I haven’t worn again.
Facebook then worked its magic. Pictures were uploaded, the happy Bride and Groom shared their day, but nothing reached my inbox. No official photograph, no testimonial. No Eff’ing way? Now, this “friend” didn’t owe me anything as such. I didn’t beg, I didn’t bitch. I didn’t make a big deal about the fact that really, I shouldn’t have attended. I shouldn’t have sucked it up and put a brave face on for her. I merely decided, at that point, that enough was enough. These types had to go before Facebook shared yet another indirect shade throwing image. I culled my ‘friends’ and my Facebook friend list.

It felt so good to give my life and timeline a cleanse. And with that, the whispers started. “oh, you deleted “such and such” from your Facebook?” – Yes. *Blank stare*. It was like people were oblivious to their antics and I had performed the most despicable act. To them, it was fine that they didn’t speak to me in real life, but completely unforgivable that I’d deleted them on Facebook. Now, admittedly I got a bit too trigger happy and deleted some people that I felt I needed to know a bit better before we continued being Facebook friends. Sounds deep, but if so called friends were judging, what would stop these acquaintances sending me their negative Juju vibes through the internet?

I’ve re-added, added, accepted some great people. I genuinely ‘like’ their kids photos. I ‘Like’ their recent holiday snaps. I ‘Like’ the fact that they are truly happy living and loving positively. My timeline is funny and there is no stupid high school worthy bitchiness. I did it, I won. And with that, I forgive you Mark Z, I thank you for creating this wonderful world of Facebook. Because, if I had deactivated like a lot of you, I wouldn’t have met my other half… Mr Kiki Blah-Blah. 

Sareta Fontaine is the founder of Kiki Blah-Blah; an award-winning site which highlights & shares modern motherhood. Since 2016, Sareta has worked on the platform, both designing and creating a space for other bloggers to share their thoughts and feelings, while also sharing hers. You’ll find everything from food, parenting, travel, beauty, relationships, fashion and so much more.

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