Leaving Social Media in 2021
Goodbye Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter.
It’s been a solid twelve years since I jumped onto the social media scene. From the beginning, I spent countless hours scrolling through seas of posts on my phone, on my laptop, or on a tablet watching what friends, colleagues, and strangers were doing with their lives all while posting about my own. I spent that same kind of time trying to take the best “photogenic” photos of myself, my surroundings, and my lifestyle.
I thought it was a wonderful way to pass the time and keep connected. But looking back, I see a problems with all of it.
It was all content.
At first, Facebook was a place where I would connect with all of my friends to chat after school or in between classes. I endured the changes, the (now cringe-worthy) privacy concerns, the additions of emoji buttons, and of course, the political drama posts. I was told Twitter would help me develop a professional profile, so while I rarely sent out tweets, I consistently followed news, artists, the Twitter accounts of famous writers and scholars, and communities that simulated in-person watch parties of favorite TV shows and dramas. About two years ago, a friend finally convinced me to join Instagram, where my photography skills came in handy for catching good angles for flowers and the small things that I enjoyed here and there during the 2020 pandemic, and where I followed various profiles that produced content I enjoy.
It wasn’t bad content — no problematic posts, shares, or arguments landed me into the fabled “Facebook Jail” as others have been (sometimes mistakenly) tossed into, it was just…content. I posted countless photos of flowers, activities, and portrait style selfies to my Instagram and Facebook profiles. Even before I joined Instagram, I felt an obligation to inform connections about what I was doing with hashtags and brightly colored images of places I’d been, I offered a curated display of ideas so that I wouldn’t stir political remarks from conservative or liberal friends, I painted my everyday life to match what I wanted others to see.
"We wear the mask that grins and lies,” — Paul Laurence Dunbar
What had originally been a fun form of communication to see how friends were doing became a space that promoted a self-absorption of valedation from “likes”. Looking at this structure now, how much we expect to know of our friends and family just by scrolling across an internet page is troubling.
A Needed Change
Over the course of the past year, I found myself reaching for social media (especially Facebook and Instagram) as a source of connection, even though I rarely spoke to others through the platform on a regular basis. Outside of that, I took a closer look at discussions of large social media platforms censoring members and Facebook’s overreach with data; I began having long conversations with a colleague about how social media has negatively impacted students’ abilities to stay focused and how the Age of Information has led so many to use social media platforms as their only source of news without second glances at what others are saying.
The push that finally led me to leave social media for good was none of that.
When my grandfather passed away, I published a post regarding his passing. I started checking my Facebook and Messenger apps constantly throughout the day, reacting and responding to people commenting on his passing.
I found I was receiving a euphoric feeling from the likes, care emojis, and commentary from those who expressed sympathy — Look! People are responding to my post!
That’s when I knew something was wrong.
More specifically, something was wrong with my response.
The fact that I was reacting in such a way, in a moment of what was supposed to be respectful mourning, spurred me into a much needed check-in with my social health and social media usage. I started thinking about how social media was skewing my perception of people; of how while I had cared for my grandfather there were many moments when I would find myself distracted from my surroundings because of social media. It reminded me of when I would ask my grandfather if he would like me to go to a local news’s Facebook page so he could listen to the rest of the story that the broadcasters proclaimed “could be found on Facebook”.
I realized that the technology that I had anticipated would bring me happiness and potentially lifelong connections had ended up leaving me anxious about how people would respond to my content — my profile pictures, my weekly updates — the image of myself that I wanted people to see.
I decided it was time to leave the websites that I had so long been addicted to browsing through. I looked up articles written by other writers who had left their social media accounts behind, and was relieved to find their careers are still productive without it. While conducting this basic research into the results of others leaving social media, I also began realizing the extent that Facebook’s reach has grown since it’s origins — from the expanse of login options to embedded links for quick sharing to Facebook, there are few places online where the social media giant hasn’t added a plug-in or login option. Even the local news media reports in their broadcasts, “to learn more about this story, go to our Facebook page!”, leaving out a large audience who doesn’t have immediate computer access and/or social media accounts.
Such findings have led me to question the ethics of social media’s reach — should such platforms be used as a driving force in news dispersal? A recent example: even though the 45th President’s many briefings tended to bring up a wide variety of displeasing responses from many, why were they exclusively aired by news channels on social media platforms instead of broadcast with the rest of their news, where accessibility is clear and consistent to the public? The connections between news media and social media offer a deep rabbit hole that is filled with politics, risks for disinformation, ethics of information presentation, representation of peoples, and of course, questionable business practices.
A week before I officially clicked the delete button on my account, I published a post to my friends on Facebook stating my choice to leave social media, and soon after began downloading my photos and data to an external hard drive. I received many messages from people (and sent many out) with my contact information in case people who I had interacted with online wanted to keep in touch. I received comments from people wanting to meet for coffee in person when the pandemic ends. Some also commented that my posts and regular updates would be missed.
And while using social media as a creative outlet was enjoyable, both in creating content and receiving feedback in the forms of both posts, and “likes”, the fact that it was just content development was As I downloaded my photos, I realized that most of the images displayed on my screen aren’t things that I’ll want to keep around for long —it was a small portion of photos that included family and friends were the ones that I would truly want to keep.
What about those other social medias?
I still maintain a few other profiles on smaller social media platforms including ResearchGate and Goodreads, and technically Medium could be classified as its own kind of social media since it’s a site for bloggers and journalists, and other writers alike. But in addition to my preference for smaller social media platforms, there are large differences in how I communicate with others on them. It all comes down to how I am active on them.
On these platforms, the biggest factor for keeping them is that I receive what I put in. Through Goodreads, I keep tabs on the number of books I’ve read and I write reviews on each book to keep myself writing and to gain further recommendations on what to read next. On ResearchGate, I follow various scholars in my field, download and save others’ research findings and articles, and present my own research to the community.
These profiles are meant for building on productivity in one form or another. So instead of posting general content about myself, I am contributing to discussions and to my own learning. I’m not distracted by the latest viral cat video. I’m focused on the community I’m interacting with.
Personal Results?
It’s been a short time since I clicked the “delete” button on my accounts, so I am unable to attest to long-term effects on my mental health, relationships, and productivity, but I have already noticed a few positive changes in my behavior as a result of my leaving. I’ve already managed to spend more of my time reading and writing, whether that be via Medium or in print. I spend more of my time thinking about taking photos of people instead of the things around me. I have connected with people people eager to meet with me post-pandemic to have a cup of coffee and chat about how life is going.
I look forward to spending the time I used to spend scrolling through social media with my nose in a book or with my fingers typing away at whatever I’m writing. I look forward to spending time with family and friends, with my phone solidly in my pocket or purse instead of heavy in my hand with Instagram or Facebook or Twitter glowing on the screen.
It’s time to say hello to building relationships outside of social media.