There are telltale signs that we’re engaging in a toxic relationship or situation. For me, the biggest indicator is when I find myself arguing with people who aren’t even there — those fake fights in the shower. After a lot of personal growth, I began to recognize those moments and would immediately take action to shift the situation. That meant letting go of the issue, redefining my boundaries with the person I was fighting with, or even walking away from the relationship altogether.
It took me years — maybe even a decade — to realize I’d been doing the same thing with social media all along.
I joined MySpace in 2004 and immediately loved it. I signed up for Facebook in 2007, Instagram in 2011, and TikTok in 2022 (I was a little late to that one). That means I’ve been on social media every day for over twenty years. By 2016, like many others, I started realizing how toxic social media had become. But I was still under the delusion that I could “change it.” Much like my past toxic relationships, I convinced myself that I could say or post the right thing to shift the dynamic. “Be the change you wish to see in the world” doesn’t apply when you're up against an algorithm that’s manipulating you.
In 2020, I fell hard for the narrative that “you’re privileged if you leave social media” or “if you look away, you’re privileged.” Looking back now, it seems insane. “Don’t look away from our manipulated lies.” “You’re heartless if you choose your mental health over plugging into our machine.” How many times did a toxic ex, family member, or boss try to shame you for choosing your sanity over their drama?
I’d been considering leaving social media for about six months. I always tell my clients to spend time in the observation phase before making a decision. So many people leave social media only to return, just like many break up with toxic partners only to go back. I knew I wanted to leave, but I had to be ready. I observed my daily phone usage skyrocket. I noticed how my sense of community had shifted to people I had never met in person or even communicated with, digitally or otherwise. I saw friends, family, and people I respected becoming consumed by what I saw as obvious bot campaigns, especially as we neared the election.
Like many major shifts in my life, my departure from social media came after something small — well, small compared to the horrific experiences I’d had. I commented on a post on TikTok, and some girl lashed out at me. I told her she was being a bully, and she replied, “If you think that’s bullying, you should get off the internet.” At first, I typed out a whole response (because social media programs us to engage). But then I deleted it because I realized, “She’s right.” I don’t belong on these platforms anymore.
I’m extremely aware of how calculated these algorithms are. I know about the bot campaigns. I understand that my feed is completely fake. It’s designed to keep me angry and engaged, to gaslight me into thinking it’s real. It thrives on discomfort, growing and expanding at my expense. It’s a virtual narcissist, and I spent 20 years trying to love, believe in, and change it.
I left social media in January. Now, I envision the scene in WALL-E, where the man falls out of his chair, looks around, and sees how plugged in everyone else is.
Resources that helped build confidence in my decision:
Book: "ten arguments for deleting your your social media accounts right now" https://a.co/d/h9YOhjk
Podcast: We Can Do Hard Things: Glennon's dramatic social media plan
Documentary: "the social dilemma" https://www.netflix.com/title/81254224
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