The Unexpected Gains of Giving Up Social Media
You never know where a new habit will lead you
Four months after quitting social media, I’d written 60,000 words of prose and 10 pieces of verse. They weren’t perfect, but they were something.
I’d also compiled a long list of topics I wanted to write about. I added these to the backlog of half-baked drafts that I’d written when I went through a half-hearted phase of personal blogging.
At that four month mark, I’d also read 32 books of a 52 Books In A Year challenge.
I didn’t give up social media specifically to do any of that, but it created the time and mental space to do what I really enjoy.
The first three months were in lockdown caring for four children single-handedly whilst completing my social science degree (I can also credit myself with 20,000 words of academic writing).
But I couldn’t help myself — the desire to learn and consolidate that learning was insatiable. The ideas spontaneously popped into my mind and — as a long-time hobby writer — I knew I had to immortalise them in text as they arose.
Along with the newfound joy of finally being a habitual and prolific writer came some gradual shifts in perspective that allowed me to reimagine myself.
I noticed that — away from the dichotomy of Facebook debates — I grew less and less wary of having a voice and sharing my work.
Even though I’d shared my personal blog before, I’d always been very aware of wanting to be “everything to everybody”; to be constantly sensitive to multiple perspectives and not rock anyone’s boat.
Despite courting controversial topics and alternative worldviews, I felt like a reluctant rebel — I didn’t ever want my writing to be the cause of someone’s upset.
I tempered everything with an insipid liberalism in order to appear ‘nice’ — and, in the process, took a lot of heat out of my creative fire.
“Art never responds to the wish to make it democratic; it is not for everybody; it is only for those who are willing to undergo the effort needed to understand it.” — Flannery O’Connor
Thankfully, the social retreat of lockdown and digital detox meant I learnt a lot about this fear. A fear of criticism is the bane of a delicate ego. But with a lack of social interaction, there was a certain amount of ego-dissolution going on.
As far as my writing was concerned, that meant relinquishing the need for approval that manifested as people-pleasing and perfectionism.
I also decided to afford other readers the open-mindedness I afford myself: that I can read a contesting view without getting emotionally embroiled in it; that I can transcend my cognitive dissonance and play devil’s advocate with myself; that I can question a claim whilst respecting the author; that I can see the person behind the opinion.
I know not everybody thinks that way and there will always be haters. But if I can get through months and months of the social isolation of lockdown with my mental and emotional health intact, I can surely shrug off a few internet trolls or prepare myself for friendly critique.
I realised that, irrespective of personal politics, I longed for the feedback of peers.
Around the time that I quit social media, I resumed Medium membership. I primarily saw Medium as a means of inspiration rather than a mode of publication.
I purchased this domain with the intent to share some of the fruits of my spiritual journey, which had reified themselves via the aforementioned 60,000 words.
However, in recognising the broad themes that my life experience covered, I realised my writing was not just limited to the esoteric topics of my ‘streams of consciousness’ writing sessions.
As this realisation dawned, I was further inspired to write about the full range of topics that I felt I had some form of expertise in — from the informal lessons of parenthood to the formal pursuit of social psychology.
It was an organic process. When I gave up social media I courted the same vague dream of “being a writer” that I’d had for nearly 30 years. But here was the point where experience, confidence, and context combined to fuel the creativity.
On one hand my psychospiritual writing filled a niche but on the other hand I needed a dynamic and diverse platform through which to experiment and receive feedback on a range of topics. Well, the answer was apparent! Medium was definitely the medium.
So, I took the leap and here we are: words published on a popular platform for all to see.
If this is where you want to be, I would advise against forcing anything. Go at your own pace but never stop going. I could easily have started doing this five years ago, but I wouldn’t necessarily have had the life experience and insights I needed to find my voice.
This has crept up privately and quietly. When the time is ripe and you have created the space, you can trust the process and follow the flow of intuition.
There has been plenty written about the benefits of giving up social media. This is not about social media per se, but any habit or commitment that gets in the way of your true calling.
What could you give up that would create more time and mental space?
There is no need to have any greater purpose than this reclaiming of time and psychological energy. Anything else is an unexpected gain.
Whether you are already dedicated to your life’s work, have inklings of what it could be, or need some respite to tune back in with yourself, we can all do with a recalibration to open up new opportunities.
I don’t know where I’m going, but that’s where the magic lies. I have my hopes and plans and goals, but my experience suggests that this is just guesswork in a sea of potentials.
My only duty is to show up and write, trusting that each stepping stone into the future will light up as I go.
