How I Really Feel About Quitting Social Media For Good

A Redditer posed the question “How has deleting social media impacted your life?”

At first, I scoffed. You’re asking about quitting social media on a social platform? Then it occurred to me: where else would the question be posed before someone made the choice? Sit down and be less judgy there, KAREN. I sat and wondered how I would feel quitting social media nowadays, as I’ve taken long breaks in the past.

Good. Amazing. Fucking stellar.

Then, I read some of the responses. Without warning a strong, bitter envy crashed into me. So many people responded that they had quit social media, sometimes for years and felt amazing. The envy grew infinitely. Why haven’t I ever quit for years? I know it’s the healthiest choice for me. Why don’t I have the courage/determination/resolve to cultivate a social media free life?

When it suddenly gripped me; I do have the resolve, the gumption to kick that shit to the curb. I always have. One thing about me, since I’ve been a young child I’m not going to be peer pressured into dubious behavior. So, if it isn’t a lack of courage or strength or perseverance, where from exactly is this lack originating?

This is the moment in which I cringed in spite of myself, realizing I hadn’t been entirely honest regarding quitting this lifestyle in the first place. Damn. The cold hard truth of the matter is that I love the dopamine. Get a like? Dopamine. Receive a comment? Dopamine. Laugh react to a silly meme? Total instantaneous satisfaction. There’s really nothing that’s been quite as immediately gratifying as interacting with the world around you on social media.

Besides, I’m addicted. Addicted to the desire for external validation. Addicted to the craving. Addicted to the fear of missing out, and the fear of comparison. Am I enough? Do I have enough? Enough.

Binging on socials is something many of us are guilty of, even to the tune of hours and hours per day. Constantly stimulated, driven mad by the shame associated with not being able to stop. Compulsive selling of my own self-worth for another like. Am I really only worth 100 clicks?

Disgust washes over me as I recognize that I have been trading precious time, delicate pieces of me for an addiction. How could I trade away golden minutes with my children for this? For what? A legacy of photoshopped images on an app that’ll be defunct in ten years? Hot takes for strangers to consume as they pick apart the character of a stranger? Not exchanging my peace, my time, and myself for anything is rapidly becoming non-negotiable.

What I have learned on this journey of humaning is that sometimes the truth is brutal. Accepting the truth and working from a space of understanding, but also compassion is the way forward.

I know that I never intended to spend so much time on my phone. We know through research that these companies use apps to monopolize our time through getting our brains addicted in order to create sales. The wickedness of this scam is logically not lost on me; but emotionally, it’s difficult to say goodbye. When since your teens you’ve been literally brainwashed to check the emails, instant messages, and notifications in order to bolster your self-worth it becomes difficult to un-identify with that toxic notion. Even more brutally, for Gen Z and younger, this indoctrination is all they’ve ever known.

The envy evaporates quickly for me once the veil has been dissolved. The life we lead on social media is a lie, regardless of how honestly we attempt to engage. It’s not uncommon for me to find myself wanting to take a photo for the sole purpose of posting it on social media. That impulse is so commonplace in fact, that it’s become an entire culture. Essentially, complete transparency on social media is a lie.

Once the lie is uncovered, it becomes easier to let it all slip away. The likes, the comments, the engagement suddenly take their place amongst the technologically insignificant modern experiences like junk mail and spam. Once we disengage our identity and self-worth from the facade we’ve created in order to exist online, we are liberated. Freed from the shackles of the billionaire class attempting to utilize humans as capital.

But mostly, I look into my child’s eyes and I see days and weeks of missed moments. Moments I wasn't present. Moments I frittered away. All for the dopamine, for the comments, and likes, and clicks. For the validation of strangers. Instead of garnering true love from my littles. Instead of using that energy to nurture a human, whether it be myself or my child. Instead of raising them, showing them love and affection. This is the cost of social media.

Where do we go from here? I’m not sure. I am not a good global citizen, nor do I aspire to be in the current climate. What I do know is that personally, I am no longer willing to toss my life away on something that ultimately brings no joy or value to my life. The cost is just too high.