Some of the best things I’ve ever tried or learned have been while being dragged kicking and screaming. The self-help book that a friend recommended after the passing of my father felt like a slap in the face. Why would you want me to read right now? I don't love doing it when I'm happy, so what makes you think I want to do it while I'm grieving? A year after my initial dismissal of the book, an assignment for class brought me back to it. Guess who loves that book? Guess who emailed the author and almost cried when she got a response? Guess who doesn’t always know what’s best for her? If you guessed the author of this article, you’d get a big fat A on the top of your progress report.
I wouldn’t describe myself as having an addictive personality. I don’t do drugs, I drink in moderation, and on occasion, I’ve never been attached to a vape or a person. If something or someone is bad for me, I usually have no problem giving it up. And yet, I have spent the last ten years absolutely consumed by one thing. This small thing took up hours of my day, years of my life, and almost all of my brain capacity. The normalization of this particular addiction made it seem as if there was nothing wrong with the codependence I had created.
First, it was Facebook. I begged my mom on my hands and knees to create an account, and when she finally gave in, it was like I had just been let into another universe that I was otherwise missing out on. Then came Instagram, Snapchat, TikTok, BeReal, and before I knew it, my days were filled with endless scrolling and more useless information than a single human should ingest in a lifetime.
So, when my teacher prompted our Multimedia class to create a project on whatever we wanted, it was just the excuse I was looking for. I had played with the idea of deleting social media a few times, just as anyone else has. It being a fleeting thought that I laughed off, only to forget about it altogether when I fell back into the trance of a good scroll. After the first project pitch, I knew what I was gonna do. I was going to challenge myself by deleting all of my social media in one fell swoop. I would then keep a diary of what I was feeling and thinking throughout my journey to compile my thoughts.
I was worried about a few things as a result of my social media hiatus. I was unsure how my relationships would change, both romantically and platonically. I also wondered what I would fill my days with, days that were once chocked full of memes and ads. I was worried and anxious, to say the least, but I was excited to dive head-first into a new challenge.
When the clock struck midnight on January 13th, I deleted all of my social media. Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, and TikTok, all gone in a matter of seconds. These teeny tiny apps, formed by nerdy coders somewhere, were somehow choke holding me; a superficial thing, that truly doesn’t exist in the real world. If your phone dies, if it breaks, if it glitches, if the internet stops working, everyone’s entire online presence would be wiped, with no trace of it or any proof that it ever existed. That thought shocked me and gave me the confidence I needed to enter into this challenge with a tinge of optimism. What was my obsession with? The entertainment? The numbness I felt while I scrolled? The interconnectivity that I had thought I cultivated from being online? Suddenly I was no longer sure, but I was hungry to find out.
The first week was surprisingly simple. I had a newfound freedom that felt good and I was ready to get started. I tried new things and occupied myself with hobbies I had been putting off because of my “lack of free time” when in reality I just spent my days rotting away in front of my blue screen. I enrolled in yoga classes at a studio I had liked before but didn’t go as often as I’d wanted. I took a drum class, I started reading more books and going to the movies to see the ones I had been pushing off. I talked to my classmates, and I really listened. I corresponded with people that I never found the time to catch up with. I paid attention in class, and if it was boring I read an article on my phone, so I felt as if I at least was doing something productive. I did wordle. So much wordle. I did connections, crosswords, spelling bees. If I was using my phone, I wanted to learn something while doing it, not just numbing myself so that I didn’t have to think.
But then that got boring. I was sick of reading articles, I was sick of learning, reading, thinking. Thinking is fucking exhausting. I know that sounds weird, but thinking about complex things all the time is so much work. I assume that’s why people have been doing low mental effort activities for centuries. Knitting, reading, biking, watching movies, listening to music, cooking. While all these things are technically all “productive” they also all have one thing in common, none of them require much of your brain to get through.
I thought about a lot of things I didn’t spend much time thinking about. I thought about religion, my friendships, the universe, energy, what I want to do with my life, what I look for in a partner, what I liked, what I didn’t, why wars happen, and why South Africans sound the way they do. The thoughts. They never stopped. It was like I hadn’t thought about anything real for so long, that when I did, the floodgates were opened.
Something I particularly struggled with was my friendships. Right around the time I started this new era, I began noticing things about the people around me. Some of those I was surrounded by didn't make me feel so good, and I was finally starting to realize it. Once I distanced myself, I came to the resolution that I had no one to count on but myself. I don’t say that in a “nobody gets me” way, but rather in a way that highlights the loneliness of life. We are born alone and we die alone. That may sound depressing and morbid, but I don’t think it is. I think it’s just a truth of life that we either hate forever, or we learn to accept it and I choose the latter.
Since I became aware of the loneliness, I realized the necessity for relationships; and not all of them are created equal. Some friendships and romances are meant to teach you something about yourself or the world. Some are meant to stick around forever, and some are only around for a season, but that’s okay. Having a small, but mighty group of people you talk to is more than okay; it’s preferable. Less birthdays to remember, less drama, less stress, more love, more genuineness, more meaning.
My romantic relationships also changed. Coming into an age of dating with social media means a few things. It means you stalk the boys before the date, you lurk on their social media to see if they’re being active when they don’t respond to you, and you don’t get to rest until you have some sort of inclination that they aren’t talking to any other girls. Not that I have any experience dating pre-cell phones, but I would have to assume that there was a sense of unease. The same unease that I have felt these past few weeks while conversing with potential suitors. I have recently learned to let go and let god. (Whether I wanted to or not) I had no way of finding out whether these boys were into me or into everyone. I couldn’t look at who they were following, which is a big tell in the social media world and some forget that their following is public record. They follow Playboy accounts, various models, every girl in every sorority on campus, and Joe Rogan. The last one says what needs to be said all on its own.
Being detached from the wealth of information that is social media left me to my own devices to figure out whether or not these men were worth my time; or if I was worth theirs. There were two men in my life during this experiment. Let’s call them Matthew and Nick. Matthew is a sweet guy, a year younger than me, good head on his shoulders, and very cute. However, we didn't seem to have too much in common and it fizzled out before a second date. Nick was my date to an event, tall, British, need I say more? He’s a couple of years older than me but he has the brain of a 16-year-old. Now without giving you any other information, you could probably come to a conclusion of what you think, which is what I was doing. But don’t you yearn for more details? Don't you wanna know if they were good kissers? What they look like? What they’re interested in? That's how I felt without having the knowledge of their social media. I didn't know so many parts of them that I would have otherwise. So no, I won’t be giving you the gory details but I can say, you won’t be hearing wedding bells for me anytime soon.
About halfway through, I was walking to class and got a notification from The Guardian. It was a link to an article titled: In the age of social media, the best post-breakup revenge is publicizing how well we’re living. The article talked about the “thrive post”, meaning the photo you post to show your ex that you’re thriving without them. How lame is that? To have to prove to the person you presumably hate, that you are doing well without them. How about we actually live well instead of posting as if we are? The topical nature of this notification forced me to think about whether I was living well for me, or for the ‘gram. Talk about a black mirror episode.
As I trekked through my experience, I was shocked by a few recurring events. One thing that I'm not proud to admit was my longing for social media. Not because I wanted to scroll or know anything I didn’t already. Instead, I had this overwhelming feeling of the unknown. It was like I was leaving the house and I hadn’t packed something I was going to need later in the day. What if a boy had added me on Snapchat and I missed it? What if my class friends followed me on Instagram and by me not following them back right away, it made me seem like an asshole? I had a constant fear that I was missing out on something, but I didn’t even know what that would be. Another thing that I noticed is the reaction of those I told about my experiment. There were positive responses like “Good for you!” and “I could never, props to you for doing it” and then there was the occasional “How's it going…” or “How are you holding up?” like I had been unknowingly diagnosed with a terminal illness. Like somehow me taking a break from social media was me making a lifestyle choice and an odd one at that.
Unfortunately towards the end, I kind of got lazy. I stopped trying to be my “best self”. I couldn’t find the time to go to yoga, my books were collecting dust, and my screen time had gone back up to its original status. So with four more days to go, I decided to go full throttle. The sand in the hourglass was sinking quicker than before, and I still hadn’t done the things I had set out to do. I was still jobless, easily distracted, single, and sleeping horribly.
On one of the last days without social media I took a solo trip to the beach. The beach by my house is usually empty, but on this perfectly windy, 75-degree sunny day, you would have thought the president had come to Delray Beach. I brought a book as a distraction and set up my speaker in order to look alone but not lonely. The problem is that I, for some reason, thought being lonely or alone was something to be ashamed of. I then put down my book, lifted my head, and started looking around. Not a single person was looking at me. Some small piece of myself deep inside was offended. Was I not something to look at? But then I settled and took in the beautiful human sights around me. A man walked back to his wife on their towel, laid down on his stomach, and waited for his betrothed to slather his mole covered back in sunscreen. I saw a dad and son taking photos together. Maybe it was his day to have him and their chosen activity was the beach. The one thing that really struck me was the simple fact that I was an unknown background character in all of their trips to the beach; and subsequently their lives. I would most likely never see them again and they would never see me (we probably wouldn't even know it if we did). It made me realize how insignificant my existence, let alone my lack of social media meant in the grand scheme of things.
For some reason, I thought this experiment would be life-altering. Like I would somehow leave these six weeks better than I had come into them. I now realize that was a bit of an overshoot. I had thought that by changing one small aspect of my life I would be more empathetic, richer, sexier, and my skin would somehow start glowing. The problem with social media and my qualms with it was never it; it was me. I thought that my disdain for my appearance, my unavailability, and my subpar grades were the result of an outside variable; when in reality they are all on their own playing field. They are all interconnected to an extent, but deleting social media was not a cure-all, and I should have known that.
I think I’m discrediting the effect that this time has had on me. It has taught me to be more open-minded about people’s lives outside of their social media and online presence. I used to look someone up and think I knew everything, which is of course not possible. I also have realized that the things that you occupy yourself with and the people you are surrounded by ultimately shape who you are. Not to say I didn’t know that prior, but even the small changes, like reading articles instead of scrolling has made me more knowledgeable and hungrier for information, instead of caring about something for two minutes and then moving on.
I also noticed I have been shopping less. I wouldn’t say that I have been spending less money, (my bank account would disprove that claim) but I have been spending more on eating out with friends as a means to socialize rather than buying outfits and things that I will want for about five minutes. The last few purchases on my Amazon account have been toothpaste, floss, and razors. Who am I turning into? I feel like someone named Gertrude as I sit here writing this in my bathrobe.
I’m not the only one who felt crazy. The more people I talked to and the more research I did proved how common my feelings truly are. Throughout my time off social media, I read a book called The Defining Decade by Dr. Meg Jay. Dr. Jay is a clinical psychologist and wrote the book to talk directly to people in their twenties who feel lost and unsure of their future. She used real people, albeit name changes, and wrote about how she helped her clients overcome their obsession with finding themselves and guided them toward the life they were so desperately grasping for.
One of the chapters focused on a young man who once went to her and described his early twenties as being dropped in the middle of the ocean. He explained that he felt like there was so much he wanted and was supposed to do but didn’t know the first place to start. She started by leaning into his analogy and told him that the only way someone would get out of the ocean and onto dry land was to swim in one direction. Sometimes life’s most complicated questions have the simplest answers. Jay then told him that if he wanted to get out of the existential dread of his lackluster career, he needed to pick something and start. Whether it would work out was unknown, but you can’t win a race you never enter. Not that your twenties are about winning, which she so eloquently put.
She mentioned that her first edition of The Defining Decade had been released in 2012, just as Facebook had entered the world. She knew that there were negative impacts of social media, but there were no statistics to back it yet. However, she had observed it through her own eyes within the four corners of her office. Clients would come in complaining about how their lives didn’t measure up to those on social media. She noted that “we are comparing other people’s outsides to our insides” and that rang true tenfold. No one’s life is as glamorous or as peaceful as the social media portrayal of it. This may be a bit of a shocker, but nobody has a perfect life. That was news to me.
People all around are recognizing an issue but have no way and/or motivation to remedy it. After all, the person who discovered water was definitely not a fish. You have to take yourself out of something to truly understand the effect it has. So if you’re tempted by the idea of taking a social media break, let me be the first to tell you: do it. Not to seem cool or different, but because future you will thank you. Maybe you can tell your kids about the time Lily Ellis told you to do something and it changed your life for the better.
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