Most of my adult life has been centered around making money from TikTok.
Yeah. That sentence is not something my 8-year-old self would ever think she’d write 20 years later (mostly because her mom’s camera and the desktop computer in the front room were her only forms of creative output)
When I moved to LA I had all the dreams of becoming a star director just like Greta Gerwig, Ava Duverney, and Sofia Coppola.
But I found myself doing mostly remote work from my laptop in my house rather than assisting on sets and networking at parties.
In my free-time I made videos on my phone. Mostly quick and mostly motivational; just like content I liked to consume.
Ironically enough, my idea of success back then was creating long beautiful intricate and emotional films, and somehow I found myself consistently making short, choppy, stark vertical videos just because I didn’t need a crew or production plan.
My first viral video was of me eating a pita and talking about “Your 20s not being your prime, but your primer.” This video gained 1 million views in the first twelve hours it was posted.
But I learned that virality isn’t fun.
And that my inner artist was fragile and free. She was making videos for herself (à la Eighth Grade) She wasn’t them for the masses until the masses started watching.
After a week, I gained 50,000 followers and my confidence began to depend on whether or not the next video I made would get just as many views as the one before. My mind was consumed with if people agreed with me or hated me for speaking my mind. TikTok became a validation machine I was addicted to and couldn’t stop. And if I did, I felt the perpetual “you’re missing out on an opportunity to be seen” as if being seen is all artists are good for. After my first 8 million views, companies began reaching out to me to create videos for them too. These jobs paid well and I enjoyed getting to help businesses I believed in. That was until my creativity wasn’t being poured into my own writing and creation; just theirs.
Long story short, I burned out. I stopped reading, writing, watching videos and movies that inspired me, I literally stopped viewing my own FYP: the place that inspired me to create videos in the first place.
When I moved to Europe, I realized the cultural climate is very different than the United States. People use technology, yes of course, but social media is consumed and created quite differently here. I started to feel the pull to be present; maybe because daily I pass by buildings older than my country, or maybe because the food tastes better and people aren’t as easy to understand… I don’t know.
But I do know that posting on social media took a backseat to my life. As someone who has perpetually been a creator online, this was refreshing.
Last week I made the decision to completely remove TikTok from my phone, curious to see how it might impact my creativity. I had been feeling a need for a sort of detox, hoping to identify and rid some of my squirrel-like tendencies that o knew had something to do with my internet usage. Surprisingly, I started doing more things than I stopped doing things. I managed to step away from the comparison culture and the incessant checking of my phone (I recently learned that the first thing we reach for in the morning often reflects what we self-regulate with... ouch). Instead, I found myself doing activities that connected me more to my creative self. Things I always tried to squeeze in after TikTok, Instagram or Facebook use.
Things like:
Listening to "The Big Leap"
Subscribing to awesome new publications on Substack including:
Walking my dogs without headphones
Beginning two new screenplays
Finishing Ava DuVernay's Masterclass
Writing daily morning pages (3 pages of uninterrupted thought)
Planning the upcoming Cageless podcast and newsletter
This shift has been refreshing, offering me a renewed sense of focus and productivity. I don’t see myself scrolling or creating much on TikTok anymore.
I re-downloaded TikTok a few days ago for the sole purpose of finding a concealer tutorial and I don’t regret it. I just know now that getting lost in scrolling or using my brain power to think of hooks or motivational video ideas doesn’t make me happy.
Actually creating, engaging and learning from visual media does.
Boundaries are good.
But awareness is better.
"Long story short, I burned out. I stopped reading, writing, watching movies that inspired me, stopped viewing my own FYP: the place that inspired me to create videos in the first place."
Offfttt this hit home. When we are on the treadmill we get so caught up in it that we start to drift away from those things that made us feel alive and creative in the first place!
Thanks so much for the reminder!
I deleted all social media from my phone in November after another "bender" (what I call my late night scroll-athons). I downloaded the Substack app and a month later I resurrected my writing, started playing the piano and illustrating again.
4 months later, I can't keep up with all the newsletters that I loved to slowly read and respond to. I would love to figure out a balance for that.
Great post - and SO relatable.