I think I hate social media. Or at the very least, I hate what it does to our brains, our self-esteem, our body image.
I hate the echo chamber, the way we categorise each other as ‘us’ or ‘them’, our inability to see the complete, complex, feeling, thinking human beings behind the photos and reels and dancey/pointy videos.
I hate that our kids’ generation might never experience the relief of doing dumb shit and knowing it won’t end up all over Snapchat/TikTok/insert current platform.
I hate that I’m an outlier because of the limits we put on our kids’ tech use, and I hate to think that my approach to social media will set them apart from their mates in a negative way.
Despite this, or maybe because of it, I think talking about social media, experimenting with it, understanding it, remaining open to the ways it affects us (both positively and negatively) is so important. I won’t ever be able to meet my kids where they are if I can’t even find them on the map, you know? And similarly, I can’t expect them to understand my bone-deep discomfort with social media if I don’t show them why I feel that way.
So, when our 14-year-old suggested a month-long social media hiatus a while back, I jumped onboard. And here’s what I realised: Even after all my own experimentation and my sporadic relationship with social media (I hardly ever post to Instagram, haven’t used Twitter in years and remain on Facebook for school/community updates only) I was still surprised at how much brain real estate this stuff was taking up.
What kind of stuff? Well, I’m glad you asked.
Random information about strangers’ lives
My family likes to joke that I have an extraordinary talent for remembering completely useless information. And it’s true. Particularly pop culture information. For example, I’ve never watched an episode of the Kardashians show in my life, but when one of our kids recently asked which of the Kardashian siblings were related to each other and how, I could rattle off the family tree. (How? And more to the point —WHY?!)
Turns out the same could be said for the random celebrities and influencers I followed on social media. Their wins, losses, struggles, achievements, connections and scandals have lived rent-free in my head for years, and while I don’t think I ever really gave it a lot of energy, it was still there, taking up space. And I wasn’t even aware of it until I stopped carrying it around.
When I poked my head back into Instagram a few weeks ago, I saw that these strangers I had followed for years had had babies, got new jobs, moved house, launched businesses, released books, had epiphanies — and I didn’t know about any of it. Their lives had continued, completely valid and real and entirely unobserved by me.
It was great. I wish them well. I’m happy for them. I’m also happy for the extra headspace so I probably won’t be back very often to check in.
Pressure to comment on Important Things
This probably says as much about me and my insecurities as it does about social media itself, but I used to feel such stress and guilt when it came to posting/not posting about Important Things. And not without reason. Often, especially early on, I would get messages or comments wondering where my post was about the latest Important Thing, accusing me of not caring.
Even as a small-time writer, I absorbed the expectation that I should comment/post/share every time something important happened in the world. But where does that end? Because something important is always happening. And whether someone does or doesn’t post about it on social media is no indication of their level of care.
Now that I’ve mostly removed myself from Instagram, where it seemed to be most prevalent, I no longer feel that pressure. I know the things I care about, I know that I care in a way that’s sustainable, and I also know that posting about Important Things on social media rarely does much unless it’s partnered with action.
Other people’s hang-ups, insecurities and negativity
The things we consume via our screens are not that dissimilar to the things we consume via our mouths. Too much junk will leave us feeling terrible in ourselves. Too much for too long might lead to bigger problems.
A tiny case in point. Back in the early 2010s I followed a lot of craft bloggers on Instagram. One in particular was a twenty-something woman who I really liked. I liked her style, her music taste, her optimistic way of viewing the world. She and I looked kind of similar too — oval face, strong forehead, big smile — something I only mention because of what comes next.
One day, an anonymous commenter told her she had a potato face. Which, as delicious as potatoes are, is not a nice thing to say about someone. This anonymous commenter then delightfully suggested that the blogger either get her hair cut to add some structure to her face or consider losing weight.
Messed up, right? And nowhere near the worst thing I’ve seen said to someone on the internet. But for whatever reason, it stuck with me. I became convinced I needed to cut my hair because of this comment. I spent years hating photos of myself in part because of this comment. And to this day, at least once a week, I will see my face in the mirror and think of how potatoey it is. All because some jerk decided to say something mean about someone else on the internet, and, in a moment of insecurity, I adopted it into my own inner voice.
Nothing I say will stop people being mean to others on the internet. Nothing I do will help them deal with the insecurities or jealousies or plain meanness that causes this kind of behaviour. But I can stop dining at the buffet. And, by getting off social media, I mostly have. And I don’t miss the junk at all.
“But Brooke,” I hear you ask, “Don’t you still use social media?”
In a very limited capacity these days, but yes, I do. As I mentioned, I use Instagram and Facebook sparingly, and I suppose you could argue that Substack is (a kinder, more intentional form of) social media too. So the way I make peace with it is like this…
I don’t love capitalism. I don’t like what it does to people or the way we treat each other because of it. I don’t like what it does to our brains, bodies, self-worth. But, like most people, because of the work I do and the world we live in, I partake. I work, I earn, I spend. I try to do it as mindfully as I can, and love bucking the system when possible, but I am part of the system. The key is that I won’t give all of myself and then more to that system; I try not to attach my value as a person to my success within that system; I learn about the wider impacts of that system and do what I can to navigate them.
I see social media as a similar thing.
I don’t love it. I don’t like what it does to people or the way we treat each other because of it. I don’t like what it does to our brains, bodies, self-worth. But, again, because of the work I do and the world we live in, I partake — as mindfully and intentionally as possible.
Honestly, as I mentioned in last week’s 1% post, I keep Instagram mostly in case I ever decide to publish another book. I’ve been repeatedly told that ‘good’ social media numbers will sometimes help secure a book deal, so for now I keep my profile active.
As far as the practicalities go, I’m experimenting with monthly photo-dumps at the moment, which feels sustainable, and I delete the app off my phone as soon as I’ve posted. If I have a need to check-in, I do it via the website on my laptop — something that doesn’t seem to have the same brain-numbing, mindless scrolling effect as doing so on my phone.
It’s been such a relief to put some of this stuff down, and while I’ll never say never, I can’t imagine wanting to lug it around again.
How’s your relationship with social media at the moment? Do you feel the need for change? Or are you in a good place with it?
I’m Currently…
About to go pack my bags. I’m heading away with my sisters and parents for a few days, which I’m really looking forward to. I’ll be largely offline so comments might take a while to be answered, and there’s also no Community Confab this week. (I missed last week due to a migraine — sorry!)
Feeling pretty excited about the second draft of my novel. I’m up to 27,000 words and it’s starting to feel like a real story.
Craving a piece of this chocolate beet cake.
Writing a lot. Journals, poems, funny little picture book stories… It’s the inevitable up and down of my creativity and instead of stressing about it being too much/too little, I’m just going with it.
Hoping you have a lovely long weekend (for those of you in Australia).
That’s it for the week. Enjoy your long weekend (if you get one!) and I’ll see you in a few days.
Brooke xx
I have had problems with social media since 2015. Since then, every December I would delete my socials for the whole month, sometimes up to the middle of January. I needed that time to have more headspace & be in the moment. That first year, I deleted Facebook entirely & didn’t go back on until last year. Why did I go back to Facebook? I finally got sick of being the odd one out within my kids school & sporting groups. I missed SO much information by not being in the groups. So now I’m there for those groups plus after my daughters autism diagnosis I found some really helpful online groups too so that’s it. Occasionally I post a photo of the kids because all my relatives live across the country from us but that’s it.
As for Instagram, it’s been a different situation. I think I’ve deleted my entire account 3 or 4 times. Sometimes for 6 months & other times as long as 18 months. But something always draws me back.
I went back a few months ago after not using Instagram for over 12 months & I finally figured out a way to make it work for me. I don’t follow anyone I know in real life. I don’t follow people I used to think of as “online friends”. I only post about the food I make & the books I read which means little back & forth commenting on my own posts. I only follow food accounts, podcasters or authors I like, accounts related to autism, ARFID, anti diet & a few mid size/plus size fashion accounts. I think it’s just over 100 accounts. This seems to work for me because I don’t have anyone to compare myself to & I don’t feel the need to comment as often because of these accounts are huge, they don’t feel personal so a comment here or there & a like feels like enough. I’m there for information, recipe gathering & to look at delicious food.
I don’t see Instagram as an extension of myself any more, a way to show the world who I am. It’s just those two things, cooking & reading, that I want to talk about & even then I do it in such a matter of fact way. It’s not like I used to do in the past where so many of my post were like a personal diary or therapy session. I don’t share personal stuff, my family or my daily life like I once did. And that is good for me. After 16 years of using social media, I think I have figured out a way where it doesn’t make me feel like shit.
Late last year I deleted my Instagram completely because I was sick of wasting hours watching multiple versions of the same reels and mindlessly scrolling. l deactivated Facebook too, only keeping it because my workplace has their Manager's chat on a Messenger group. A couple of months ago I got sick of the Managers Chat being something that could take up headspace when I wasn't there so I completely deleted Facebook too and told them to just communicate to me in person when I'm physically at work.
My motivation is that I moved 3000km from where I grew up in 2020 and felt this obligation to post about what I'm doing in my life, only for people to comment on my photos about how jealous they are, because my new home is a tourist town that happens to sit between the Great Barrier Reef and the Daintree Rainforest, so it's very pretty and warm compared to Melbourne. I also switched from corporate tech sales to hospitality so a lot of people fundamentally couldn't grasp me jumping off the capitalism bandwagon and openly judged me for it. A few friends turned to using their social media for negativity and trauma dumping and after unfollowing a lot of that it didn't really leave much. For the people who supported me and vice versa, we keep in touch by SMS and phonecalls, and for the rest, well, life moves on.
My partner has a facebook account that he never posts on that he uses purely to see announcements for band tours or festivals and I am signed up to email newsletters for those things, so I don't feel like I miss out on anything by not having it. We've been back to Melbourne a couple of times for weddings since then and it was really nice not posting and getting the "oh you're here! You didn't tell me! We need to catch up!" routine, purely because it's convenient for them that I'm there. We could be a lot more intentional about what we did and who we made plans with, which is really nice.