There was a time when the dot-edu email was cool–when it meant that you and only your college friends could access Facebook.

Then Mom friend requested you.

Sellout Zuckerberg decided to open the floodgates of family drama and invite your family to experience the wonders of social media. The good idea went haywire after getting reprimanded for having more than one keg-stand profile picture. Your parents don’t understand your status updates, last Friday night’s pictures unfold like a depressing comic strip of your sibling washing down the party-hard drain and your little cousins are trying to chat you at every chance.

Facebook used to be an exclusive, college experience, but now it’s a family affair. Just as people are documenting their ever so exciting lives, your family is documenting its peculiar dysfunction. Mom officially took on the post-divorce, hyphenated last name to help her long-lost high school friends search her more easily. Your sister is updating her statuses so frequently and changing her profile picture every other day,  you’ve already diagnosed her with bipolar disorder. Your brother is turning the news feed into the “I have a manifesto” forum, and the youngest in the family just discovered the B-52s on Spotify and feels obligated to tell the world.

Just as much as we use Facebook to maximize and share the college experience, we are simultaneously documenting a lot of other fascinating things. Consider the cultural phenomena of rehashing trollface memes or the importance of publishing your exact whereabouts. However, these things that you may post or tweet about, like the horror of exam week, are only funny when you post it. Surprisingly, your cousin’s song lyric statuses or mobile uploads of their lunch aren’t as exciting as if you had posted them.

The problem with Facebook, especially on the family level, is the effort people go to embellish how thrilling and desirable their lives are, when actually they aren’t. Of course you have to look good in your profile picture, and Mom’s albums better be full of posed shots of family vacations. But in the end, Facebook, like reality, can’t hide the chaos and dysfunction that dictates our world.

Even if you go in and edit your profile and delete any unsavory posts, you can’t take out the idiosyncrasies that documentarian Mark Zuckerberg has forever cataloged. Your mom is never going to decipher your status sarcasm and your younger siblings will continue sending you pirate requests. As much as you want to deny it, your quirky and embarrassing family has just become Facebook-official.