Becoming a Ghost in the Feed: Life After Social Media
Social media stole my attention for 15 years. Here’s what I found when I took it back.
I bit the bullet and deleted all my socials (sans reddit and substack).
I’d been reflecting on the nature of unlimited Internet access for the last few months and how it absolutely keeps us in perpetual fear/FOMO/outrage cycles over things that we otherwise wouldn’t even find out about. This seemingly simple action birthed a profound mental and spiritual awakening, and sparked the idea for this blog. In short, I feel like I’ve woken up from a long slumber.
It’s become undeniably clear that social media was built to be addictive, and that I (like most people around me) was fully caught in its grip. It’s an addiction akin to alcoholism, yet one treated with such levity in modern society that I can’t help but wonder if our culture has even begun to reckon with it. But I digress. I’ll save my “social media is predatory and bad” ramblings for another post. For now, here’s a glimpse into the good that has unfolded since becoming a ghost in the feed:
Film photography has always been special to me, and up until a month ago, I used to post my shots on Instagram. It wasn’t a business, just a hobby, but I still found myself checking likes and engagement everytime. When taking my film to get developed, I’d only ask for digital scans for this reason. But since taking my leave from all things doomscroll-enabling, I felt my true love of film reignite.
Humans created this artform not for the sake of projecting a diluted, often disingenuous image of ourselves for personal PR, but to preserve moments in time. To remember our grandparents and mothers and fathers when they’re no longer with us, what our pets looked like at 6 months old, and to capture the unique and ordinary beauties of the world for the sake of our own whimsies—and ours alone.
I finally decided to order 4x6 prints of my favorite photos—which I found to be ones that involved either my loved ones, the sky, the ocean, and my dog— and started putting together a physical photo album for the first time in over 2 decades. It’s something I used to help my mom do when I was a kid, and it’s one of the few warm memories I still have of my childhood.
My soul feels nourished for the first time in several years, and I finally feel like a real human being again. Don’t get me wrong, the constant dopamine hits have been difficult to quit, but it’s been so worth it in the long run—even if just for the ability to feel deeply, deeply alive again ⛲️
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading, and I hope you’ll stick around and join me in returning to our inner worlds. This post is the first of many algorithmless musings; I’ll be reflecting on all the beauty these platforms have stolen from me over the past 15 years, lamenting the time lost to endless scrolling, and unpacking what it means to exist in an era where our attention is constantly under siege.
