I Deleted Social Media (and Here’s What Happened)

In January, I snapped and did something drastic. I didn’t think it through, I didn’t make a plan, I just did it. I deleted all the social media apps from my phone. Before I could even contemplate what I was doing, it was done. As I sat, staring at the holes on the home screen where my beloved TikTok and Instagram — along with their obnoxious older brother Facebook — used to reside, I felt an overwhelming sense of both freedom and emptiness. I was free from the constant attempts to manipulate my feelings and actions, free from comparing my life to the highlight reels of others, free from apps having a hold on my daily actions. But how would I know what’s going on with my friends and what activities are happening in my community? Would I survive without TikTok dances?! If I had thought it through more, I might have looked for other moms who had ditched social media for inspiration, but it was an impulsive decision. 

READ: How Taking a Year Off Social Media Helped Me Ditch Comparison and Find Contentment

Immediately, I texted my closest friends. “I DELETED SOCIAL MEDIA, PLEASE DON’T LET ME MISS THINGS!” Admittedly, as usual, I was being a little dramatic. Instead of panicking, I could’ve just reinstalled the apps, but I wanted to experience life without them for a while. 

It’s been a few months, and I still haven’t reinstalled them. Here’s what has happened without social media at my fingertips constantly:

As with most big changes to routine, the first week was the hardest. I became acutely aware of how often I picked up the phone to check my social notifications. I would pick up my phone to instinctively tap the app, and it wasn’t there. I was lost. My fingers wanted to scroll, my mind wanted to numb, but instead, I stared at a screen full of far less enticing apps. Only one always had that irresistible little red circle with a number in the corner letting me know something new must be checked. I traded mindless scrolling for deleting and sorting emails. My email inboxes have never been cleaner. 

The next thing that happened was that I realized who my real friends were. I’m kidding, of course, but of the people I asked to keep me in the loop, only one remembers to send me cute cat videos. Every time I ask my friends how they are or what’s going on, I get the most boring answers: “Nothing” or “not much.” Certainly, no one ever answered with a video from their weekend excursions or a photo of an excellent meal they had. I’m planning to change my approach to asking, “What did you post on social media this week?”

Since deleting the apps, I’ve done a lot of cool things — went to a punk rock show, saw my daughter sing solo, went on a cruise, left the country, and ate a few great meals. But because I wasn’t really posting and I wasn’t pre-planning reels or posts, I barely took any photos and I lived in the moment. Honestly, I wish I had taken a few more photos, but because I wasn’t thinking about sharing them on social media, I didn’t really even think about stopping to take pictures.

photo of girl singing
A photo I didn’t share on social media of my daughter singing her first solo. She nailed it!

As with breaking any habit, things sneak in to try to fill the void. For me it was LinkedIn and Depop — apps where I can scroll mindlessly and pretend that it’s productive. While my screen time is down more than 60% since the days before deleting the apps, I have definitely increased my use of these apps (and my second-hand clothing wardrobe). I never knew until I started spending too much time on LinkedIn that the mean trolls are even there — happily sharing where they work while also being insufferable. Trading TikTok for LinkedIn was not an upgrade, but it was far easier to cut the cord. (Turns out there’s not much fun choreography to learn on LinkedIn.)

I haven’t quit social media cold turkey, though. I do check in using browsers occasionally — I use the fact that I need social media for my job as an excuse. When you don’t have the apps on your phone, the algorithm is far less accurate. With less accurate targeting, it becomes acutely obvious how the sites are trying to influence you through what posts and ads they show you. This makes the sites less relevant and less addictive. You lose a significant amount of Instagram functionality when using it on a browser. TikTok barely functions without the app. 

Now when I check in using a browser, I can barely stand to be there for more than a minute or two. I see so much more vitriol and ignorance than I used to. I don’t know if it’s due to the less accurate algorithm, a societal shift, or that I just notice it more because I’m not on social media as often. What I do know is that I like the people in my community a lot more when I’m not seeing their posts or comments on the local Facebook networks. 

Am I advocating for others to divest their attention from social media? Maybe. If nothing else, it has been really eye opening to see how many of my actions were influenced by little buttons on my screen. Am I going to stay off social media apps forever? Maybe. But I’ll definitely be logging in from a browser to share this post.

Theresa Duncan is a recovering fake adult and is now proudly a child who refuses to grow up. She spent a decade developing and facilitating enrichment programs for at-risk youth. Through this work, she saw firsthand the power of play in the growth of emotionally, physically, and mentally healthy children. The pressure of pretending to be an adult finally became too much, so in 2014, she and her father, Todd (also NOT a grown-up), opened Villa Villekulla Neighborhood Toy Store on Amelia Island. Her two children, Adrian and Francine, often exhibit more maturity than she does and are, therefore, the ones in charge both at home and at Villa Villekulla. When she isn’t playing with toys, learning about toys, or talking about toys, she enjoys dance parties and listening to live music with her husband.

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