Social media has been part of my daily life since the aughts. I was an early adopter of Twitter and at one point amassed more than a thousand followers. Although it’s a small number by most standards, I was proud of it because I built it organically over time.
Then one day I went to tweet something and was suddenly self-conscious. Did I really need that big of an audience? I could barely speak in front of three or four people, what was I doing posting for a thousand?
Not long after that I deleted my Twitter account and moved on to Instagram, where I curated a comfortably smaller circle of writers, editors, foodies, and other creatives. I’d also like to build my tech writing YouTube channel but have yet to upload a video — for now I prefer to watch other YouTubers.
My love-hate relationship with social media boils down to this: I love it for how it connects people with similar interests who might never meet otherwise. I hate how it chips away at my attention span and often leaves me feeling worse, not better (especially in recent months). Also, after all these years, I still haven’t figured out how to run a “successful” account because I don’t know what to say. My interests are all over the place, and I tend to delete more posts than I leave up.
I’m not quitting altogether, but I am rethinking my approach. I’ve turned off most notifications. I’ve removed some apps from my phone. And now that I’ve pared down my accounts, I’m being more intentional about checking in.
For me, scaling back means reclaiming space in my own head. It means making more room for meaningful communication, focused work, quality content, and quiet moments that aren’t driven by the urge to share.
I still love the Internet. I just don’t want it to be the lens through which I view everything. I want to spend more time creating — even if it’s just for myself — and less time consuming.
