January 18th, 2025: TikTok went dark. Although short-lived, it was uncomfortable to see the number of people genuinely distressed over it. Even more concerning were the urges I got to open the app and scroll, and getting irritated when I couldn’t—eerily similar to experiencing withdrawal. Despite this, I was relieved to be freed from the app, albeit temporarily. I assumed most users agreed the app was harmful and we were likely better off without it, yet we were also hopelessly addicted. I viewed TikTok’s ban as a necessary action, or at least for me.
These events led to serious thoughts about the need for social media amidst its widely acknowledged ill effects on its users. Especially baffling is the fact most users are at least partially aware of the consequences but still consume in excess. Why do this to ourselves? When I tried to come up with a benefit I’ve gotten from using social media, I came up mostly blank. If I thought of something that could be framed as advantageous, I would debunk it almost instantly. The supposed positives—connection, attention, and entertainment—are part of a more nuanced and grim reality that influenced my decision to quit social media for good.
The primary use of social media, at least in its advent, was for users to distribute updates, typically in the form of photos and videos, with friends and family. This is done to facilitate connection across geographic barriers. It can feel comforting to see what your loved ones are up to, specifically when you don’t see them as frequently as you’d like.
Except it’s not about providing life updates to family and friends. If that were the motive, wouldn’t you let them know firsthand, and not alongside vague and distant contacts? I don’t suspect most to be familiar with each of their followers. If something momentous were occurring in my life, I would want to let the important people in my life know through a text, phone call, or in-person visit. We do not need additional, unknown spectators online. Our best moments should be reserved for the people who truly matter, not the public. Discovering someone’s news online, such as an engagement, pregnancy announcement, or a big move, suggests you’re not close enough to have heard it directly from them. It’s an unfortunate circumstance, though not one that should be taken personally.
So, if not for life briefs and imagined intimacy, what is posting on social media really about? An even more unpleasant truth is that it’s often done for attention and social validation. It is challenging to resist sharing our high points with the world, but it mostly boils down to impressing others. Each time I posted a photo of myself that I felt I looked good in, it was because I craved praise and admiration. The likes, comments, and replies to my story felt like a drug. People “approving” of me fed my ego. That was the sole reason I partook in posting. It took a long time to become conscious of my intention and admit it to myself.
I knew this phenomenon was real when I noticed how quietly disheartened I felt when I didn’t get the feedback I desired. If my post flopped, I would have invasive thoughts, wondering if I looked as pretty as I thought I did. Do people still find me good-looking? Have I lost my audience of simps? Each time I posted a story, I would be glued to my phone, checking to see who had interacted, hoping to be affirmed in any way. It’s a detrimental practice to base your self-worth on recognition from others, especially on something as frivolous and shallow as the way you look.
Indisputably, these behaviors stem from the unwavering societal emphasis on a woman’s appearance. Instagram and TikTok function like an unspoken beauty contest, particularly inside a woman’s social circle. Women are constantly making attempts at glowing up, trying to look more polished since the last time they posted, vying to look the prettiest they’ve ever looked.
These experiences are not unique to me or any young woman online. As humans, we carry the tragic, permanent instinct to compare ourselves to others. I can confess that being exposed to beautiful women favored by the algorithm caused substantial injury to my self-esteem. It wouldn’t manifest as bitter envy, but rather as subtle feelings of inadequacy. I couldn’t help but wish I looked as good as they did. It’s something I surmise every woman can relate to, a sentiment that aches worse with social media.
On top of the considerable toll it takes on our self-confidence, using social media makes us feel we are deficient in other capacities. It is common knowledge that social media is not a reflection of real life but, alternatively, a highlight reel. Profiles are carefully crafted self-portrayals. We almost exclusively share ourselves in worthwhile states, such as wearing make-up and being dressed up, as well as ventures like partying or traveling. So, when you log onto social media, you see the collective posts of every individual participating in pleasurable activities, leading you to believe everyone is doing something cool all of the time…except you.
Indeed, hardly anyone shares the unglamorous parts of their lives: working, rotting at home, not having any make-up on, and wearing pajamas. Most people would shudder at the thought of sharing an imperfect life or a photo of themselves where they don’t look flawless. I became displeased with this distortion, both in what I published and in the content I consumed from others. I was done being falsely convinced I was missing out, and feeling my life was dull in comparison.
Posting yourself and your life online can also have the unintended outcome of feeling like all eyes are on you. For the record, I don’t presume I occupy much space in people’s minds; none of us do. Even if I did, my days of caring about other people’s judgment are long gone. With that said, having anything up on social media opens up the opportunity for someone to criticize you and what you’re doing. The possibility that anyone can think anything of your content at all times is unnerving. Even if it’s not said to me out loud, my brain was distracted by other people’s opinions of me, whether good or bad. Once again, I grew fatigued from this incessant, uneasy feeling that subconsciously weighed on me.
“Lost time is never found again.” – Benjamin Franklin
Given this lengthy list of disadvantages, one must ask, why spend any time on social media at all? Sad to say, many of us devote an inordinate amount of time to mindlessly consuming social media. We consistently emphasize how valuable time is, even more than money. Can you remember the last five TikToks you watched? We can likely only recall a small, insignificant percentage of all we ingest on social media. Social media’s positive impact is negligible at best, and the trade-off is nowhere close. Thus, it’s mostly in vain. It’s a waste of time—subsequently, a waste of life.
Squandering time and mental energy on social media is one issue; having a digital persona as a way we must present ourselves is another. Social media compelled us to have two sides to us: our real-life, in-person selves, and then our online selves. A profile we curate that’s meant to represent us, but isn’t actually us. The concept is less than twenty years old and remains experimental, not entirely natural. Enjoying the moment and savoring the experience is more than adequate. We don’t have to document anything; the ramifications are evident. Living and being are enough.
Upon this awakening, I decided I no longer wanted part in something so hazardous. I only move in silence, because a private, non-performative, authentic life offers far more peace. With our welfare on the line, I’m calling for people to think critically about their choice to use social media. Take cautious note of the emotions you encounter when scrolling and posting. In the final analysis, consider the potential costs to your health and happiness, and weigh them against whatever unlikely real benefit you receive from social media.
Coda
If you’re curious what a life without social media looks like, honestly, it’s pretty sweet. I don’t have to worry about getting the perfect photo, saving me time and energy. I don’t have to prove beauty anymore. I don’t need to establish that I went somewhere cool. I no longer stress about drafting posts and captions. There’s relief in knowing I’ll never experience the ill effects of social media again, simply because I decided I won’t subject myself to that pain. There’s no more performance. I live for me now.
Emily Writes 
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