Step with me, if you will, into a tragically familiar scenario. Bored out of your mind (or rather, procrastinating), your thumb taps to the comforting icon, opening your world to a gallery worth scrolling galore. Just a few minutes, you say.
But then, you look at the clock. Where did all the time go? And why do I feel so crummy?
If this scenario’s unfamiliar to you then please, teach me your tricks. But if it does hit close to home, step into my judgment-free zone.
Confessions of a social mediaholic
Really, I’m no better. Eager to avoid my dad’s incessant rambling, I’d take to incessant Instagram scrolling. Or, tired after a long day, I’d jump on Facebook before sitting face-to-face with the man who moved to build a life with me.
But it got even worse when I found my way home. I’d flop in bed and open my apps, watching the clock tick-tock past 12 o’clock.
Two hours per day. That’s 14 hours a week, 60-plus hours a month, and 730 hours sucked into social media apps per year.
But is it worth it?
I had to answer that question for myself: whether my social media usage was worthwhile, in the end. Social media, to me, is a valuable tool for business — invaluable for networking, inspiration, and as fodder for conversation.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
I run four accounts: two on Instagram; two on Facebook for my personal brand, as well as for my passion project, Spread Joy SD. And so, I made up this equation to determine if the return on investment for using social media was worth it:
As a copywriter and strategist for global and local brands, I’d use a similar equation to prove if their ad spend was producing: likes; engagement; conversion, whatever.
After listing off the benefits of connection, I realized they were mostly qualitative, not the quantitative results I’d tried to prove. “Social media gets me new leads!” I’d claim. “I’m getting worthwhile projects from networking online!”
And don’t get me wrong—this is not an anti-social media campaign. Several brands, personal and business, churn out profitable results. The problem was, however, that I really wasn’t using social media for that purpose.
Sure, I was building the Spread Joy SD brand and attracting new people through our social accounts. But that’s not where I spent the bulk of my time. Rather, I’d be scrolling my responsibilities away, scared to face my fears that day.
Fears like being stuck in transition, unsure of what is next.
Fears of not being where I thought I’d be at my age, while everyone around me seems to be raising children or getting raises at their steady jobs.
Fears of never getting the “dream job” I’d so hoped for after killing it as a copywriter in LA, and then making the hard decision to put my career on pause for something greater.
Fears that I was choosing not to face, but to bury, losing my mind instead in distraction.
The numbers didn’t lie. I was losing valuable time.
Even though the outcome of my habits were more qualitative than quantitative, my losses still outweighed my gains.
Paying more attention to my phone than to the people around me sent the signal: you are not as important as the world at my fingertips. This is detrimental to relationships long-term—especially for young kids.
And finally, I needed to face my fears. The frustrations of not knowing what was next were building up so much, I’d feel the physiological effects. I needed to cut myself off from this addiction; this drug, that was leaving me… empty.
Getting off social media: where I am today.
But it’s day 13, and I feel the opposite of tension; instead, I feel peace, along with these other things:
- Confidence in my journey. Social media is a highlight reel; rarely do we see the grimy stuff behind it. Without anyone to compare myself to, I’ve been able to settle into the period I’m in.
- Better connection—to my faith, and to myself. On days when I feel tempted to hide behind the social media scroll, I press into prayer instead. I face my fears head on, and ask God why I am where I am in life. He’s always given me an answer, and in receiving so, I feel so much more at peace.
- Time to do other things. Holy crepe, I didn’t realize how much time I actually have when it’s not being sucked away by my screen. ‘Not having time’ is not a legitimate excuse; rather, we choose what to funnel our time into. Now, I get to spend this time doing things that actually fill me up, such as reading; meditating; listening to music; noticing the colors of the sky, and oh! Completing this 100 Days of Writing Challenge to stretch my skills.
- Freedom to be myself. I’m a writer, not a photographer. On Instagram, the “likes” led me to unify my feed with a light palette, and tons of white space. But this is not who I am. I’m VIBRANT, ECLECTIC, and TONS of fun.
- Permission to live in the moment. Whenever I’d go out each day, I’d search for things, or moments, to capture. I’d get semi-stressed trying to get the “perfect” shot, then spend the next half hour editing the image and posting it, appropriate caption and link in tow. Now that I don’t have to think about posting anything, I get to fully live it up with my phone, down.
- Truly connecting with friends. One of my biggest excuses for being on social media was to keep in touch with my friends. But I realize that the truest friends will make time to connect with you, and not just through a post. Not knowing what my friends are up to gives me even more reason to chat them up and see how they’re really doing.
- Moments worth soaking up with loved ones. Wandering into the imagination of my niece. Gazing at the sky from a blanket with my beloved. Taking in a play with my mom on a rare date. These are the moments I get to enjoy and savor thanks to prioritizing our time in-person over my screen. These are the moments worth living for.
The best times of my life were so memorable because I was too consumed in the moment to do anything but to live it. Like the semester I spent wandering through cobblestone streets in Spain, France, and Greece, sipping café in small shops, or dancing the night away. Or those six months spent in Kona, India, and Thailand, crying as the kids whose hands I held realized they were worth more than they believed.