What if I Got Off Social Media?

For some time, I’ve been wondering if I should get off social media. The last straw was an Instagram scroll a few weeks back. My thumb worked overtime yet I saw not one post from a friend. It was a bombardment of ads. And even on those, I couldn’t tell if commenter @sallyjkr876 was a bot or genuinely obsessed with this!!! below a picture of a spatula. In between were reels for every type of bandwagon: hot takes and unpopular opinions and things that feel illegal but aren’t.

I closed the app and realized half an hour had passed.

It’s even worse on the other side. As a ‘content creator’ (my fingers are rolling their eyes as I type the phrase) I’ve found the pressure to post absurd and my submissiveness to the algorithm humiliating. I once spent a week’s worth of creative energy on a carousel that was shown to fifty-seven people and disappeared forever after twelve minutes.

Is this the enshittification of social media? If so, it has happened slowly.

I used to love the socials. Popping onto Facebook to discuss with friends the rude lyrics to Greased Lightning or why Jaime Lannister was the best character on Game of Thrones. Scrolling Instagram to get inspired by a dusty pink faux fur jacket, or laugh at another hilarious left shark meme. Engaging with readers about the daily fiasco that is my writing life, such as a procrastination article for which I spent several unnecessary hours styling the layout. We saw each other’s posts, we had actual conversations, we were gods.

I wonder if I am a frog, reminiscing about the lilypads of yore while the water bubbles around me. Maybe that’s what has held me so long—the memory of how fun and truly useful social media once was.

Now the reel with a lovable old man showcasing his wooden planes turns out to be an AI scam. And the platforms allow it.

So what do I do? Deactivate my accounts? I was happy to learn, after some googling, that many famous people—writers like Ann Patchett and Zadie Smith; celebrities like Brad Pitt and Kristen Stewart—are not on social media. Somehow they manage to forge on heroically without it. Maybe I could, too?

I imagined life without any socials—what would I miss? I would miss knowing that it was there. That I could, if I wanted, share how much I loved listening to Simply Red’s Stars on repeat. I could, if I wanted, look up the year 8 maths teacher I had a crush on. I’m not ready to let that go.

So I’ve been taking smaller steps. Recently I archived my entire Instagram, leaving only images of my books. I pinned to the top of my profiles ‘Find me here’ posts pointing to my essays and books, then I stopped posting (except to share an occasional essay). I deleted the apps off my phone, so I need to log in through my browser to scroll.

All my social accounts are still right there. Only, I’m not. Mostly.