Why I Deleted Social Media

 

On a very cosy, slightly nerdy Friday night, I watched a new Netflix documentary called ‘The Social Dilemma’, on my own in bed with a bowl of popcorn and a cup of ginger tea.

And I deleted my Social Media accounts.

As a member of Gen Z, I am among the first demographic to have gone through their entire adolescence with the spectre of Social Media omnipresent. If memory serves, I downloaded Facebook on Christmas Day at the age of 13 (when my mum finally allowed me to) and Instagram a few months later. My initial foray into Instagram was very cute and entertaining: myself and about three other friends had accounts, and we used the app as a private photo album. With no other followers, it didn’t matter that no one liked our posts, or that we only posted photos of each other. Of course, the rest is history. The app blew up, I became addicted to my smartphone, and ten years later I am trying to figure out if I can source a Nokia that exclusively has Whatsapp and Spotify. I don’t even want Snake.

So why did I feel the need to delete my online presence and become a social outcast? (I’m exaggerating, it’s not that bad).

To put it simply, for the past ten years, give or take, I have felt completely out of control when it comes to my screen time and my phone usage. My time no longer felt like it belonged to me.

Last year, I deleted my ‘regular’ Instagram account, and decided to maintain only my ‘yoga’ account. I was semi-addressing my addiction without doing anything too drastic. I assumed that I needed Instagram to have any sort of teaching success, so I kept one of two Instagram accounts and decided that if I continued to be addicted to the app via @yoginiamh, then that would eventually have to go too.

I also deleted Twitter, which I never used. I deleted Snapchat, which I sometimes used but found childish. I kept Facebook, for event invites and birthday reminders. I can thank another Netflix documentary for this first step: The Great Hack. I highly recommend it, if you’d like to know more about Cambridge Analytica and your data. (If you’re tired of feeling overwhelmed, watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine for a good laugh, instead.)

I digress. I tried so hard to find a healthy balance with my phone. I read books: Why Social Media is Ruining Your Life, by Katherine Ormerod. During lockdown, I read How to Break Up with Your Phone, by Catherine Price. In Part I, Price shocks you into wanting to change, by throwing the stats at you. It works, for a while. Part II gives a ’30 Day Plan’ to overcome your phone addiction. It worked, for a while.

I turned off notifications. I grouped my apps into folders. I deleted apps. I tried to make my bedroom a ‘Device Free Zone’. I had limits on how long I could use each app. I even turned my phone screen grey.

All of it worked, for a while. But the accounts were still there, just a download away in the App Store. My brain was addicted, and it was out of my hands. Or rather, it was in my hands and my hands were out of my control. My thumb scrolled in the morning before my brain woke up.

This time around, when I finally deleted the accounts and not just the apps, it all came down to a mental shift in my understanding.

For so long, I had considered this problem just a simple matter of self control. I had no will power. It was my fault. I was failing to find balance. I just needed to try harder.

Watching The Social Dilemma made me realise that, no, it was not my fault. These apps and devices are designed to psychologically manipulate your brain through positive reinforcement and operant conditioning. As a psychology undergrad., I knew all about these processes. I knew about the rat and the lever in the lab. I just never realised I was the rat.

So, I am now four days without an Instagram account. (Facebook is next, once I convert the Swedes to Whatsapp instead of FB Messenger).

How do I feel? Liberated.

I still procrastinate. But yesterday, instead of spending 5 hours on my phone, my procrastination manifested in me finishing my book and starting a new one, making hummus for lunch, making pesto for dinner, and making banana bread for dessert. I might not have finished my assignment, but my flatmates and I were well fed.

I’ve also returned to my meditation practice, and I didn’t feel the need to share the Headspace quote of the day on my Instagram to show you how mindful I am. (The irony is not lost on me that I’m telling you now – I’m not perfect).

What next? Will my yoga classes suffer because I can’t promote them on Social Media? I don’t think so, but I suppose we will see.

I’m not saying Social Media is the devil, or that you have to do the same thing as I did. At the end of the day, I simply wasn’t getting as much out of Instagram as it was taking from me. So I have chosen to reclaim my time, my attention, and my mood. I’m not saying I will not continue to use the Internet, or to consume popular culture. But I’d like to start doing it on my own terms.

Adios Instagram, you addictive mo fo. See you never.