A woman has the prerogative to change her mind.

And change it again. And again.

Back in February, I succumbed to the nudging of Facebook enthusiasts to be friends and be "friended." I'd been holding out, insisting it's much nicer to talk to friends face-to-face, and that I didn't need this form of cybertechnology to augment my social life.

But my sisters convinced me Facebook was a great way to keep up with nieces and nephews. I have 24; so, to be able to know what's going on in their lives — beyond the little information that can be shared at big, noisy, prone-to-interruption family gatherings — sounded like a legitimate reason to reconsider, and I did.

My Facebook time, however, was ephemeral. I even wrote a column in March about how I had de-activated my account after only a weekend of activity: Too much time spent at the computer reading about the minutiae of others' lives, I noted. Didn't want to be sucked into wondering why anyone should care if a friend is folding laundry (and why in the world that kind of information would be "post"-worthy).

And so, for many months, I was Facebook-free.

But I'm back.

Why? Well, whenever a Facebook-active sister relayed news about a niece or nephew, I realized I felt painfully out of the loop. I wanted direct access to the "sources."

So, I figured it would be OK to change my mind. Even after a public declaration of independence.

And if it hadn't been for a Facebook post, I might have missed the live videostream of a nephew — who is in the Navy — as he helped to ring the opening bell for the New York Stock Exchange on Veteran's Day. (And, yes, I bragged about him on my own "wall.")

Since then, I've found myself heartened by the Facebook posts of a nephew encouraging his sister to take on a challenge, telling her she's one of the smartest, most talented people he knows; an old high school/college pal sending a hug icon my way; a co-worker posting daily sentiments of thanksgiving or inspiration.

My daughter, however, has a more discerning view of Facebook's "amenities."

"Computer relationships are fake relationships," she says bluntly. "Pretty soon, there will be no 'status' postings saying, 'going out to dinner with friends' or 'taking a hike,' but, instead, it will simply say 'on Facebook' because it is taking over people's lives. Although it is sweet of a brother to pump up his sister's self-esteem [on a Facebook wall]," she points out, "isn't a phone call more meaningful?" She likes that her own brother calls her; he doesn't have a Facebook account.

And those convenient FB reminders that it's someone's birthday? As far as my daughter is concerned, don't even go there! It's a whole lot easier — and wa-a-a-ay less sincere, she points out — for friends and relatives to take a whole "three seconds out of their lives" to send a generic Facebook "Happy Birthday" than to resolve to remember a loved one's birthday, find a card with just-the-right sentiment and to add a personal, handwritten message; to take the time to address the envelope; to affix a stamp and to put it in the mail so that the recipient will have something fun to open on his or her big day.

We have the ability to make people feel special, but we don't do it anymore — at least not the way we could or should.

A few kind words typed on a Facebook wall don't come close to kind actions, she points out. Let's stop telling ourselves we're too busy to express true love, friendship and sincerity. If we have time to read all those Facebook posts, we have time to pick up the phone to say, "I'm thinking about you. What's new?"

"I want my relatives to see me as more than just a 'face' on Facebook," my daughter says. "I want my friends to see me as more than just a 'face' on Facebook. ...

"When I ask someone for advice, will they be able to give it to me in spoken words? Will I be soothed by an actual voice of sympathy?" she asks rhetorically. How far will this all go, she wonders. "Will we be sending Facebook flower icons out when someone dies?"

She has a point. But here's the sad reality: Because so many use Facebook as their primary form of communication, and because those who don't use Facebook are often left as some sort of forgotten class, it's almost necessary to be there. And as I type those words, I realize that what my daughter fears has become true: There are way too many Facebook users who seem to have forgotten there are other ways to communicate, or just don't want to be bothered.

So, sometimes I think Facebook is good. And sometimes I think it's destructive. Like so many things, it all comes down to how we use it.

Facebook users, let's make a commitment to ensure we aren't trading cybercommunication for real relationship, for authentic friendship.

Let's spend a little less time updating our "walls" and a little more time on building substantial, steadfast bridges.