5 things I’m learning as I take breaks from social media
I’ve taken up this ritual of scheduling time off social media. For a millennial who’s career depends on being out there and staying relevant, this has felt like a bit of a stretch.
I start with weekends. I fantasize about going longer. Maybe one day I will. Here are the things I’ve noticed about myself when I am not ingesting other people’s identities on a daily basis.
I’m reading more, and writing more. At the beginning of 2024, I started this list of every book I’d read, and it is now the first Saturday in November and I am officially out of room. I can’t squeeze any more titles onto the page of books read. I’ve starred my favourites - the books I’ve read this year that have changed my life or stopped me in my tracks or have me passing along the titles to friends with the disclaimer “you have to read this.” I took up the ruthless editing of my first manuscript, still without a clear idea of where it’s going but the knowledge that to be a good writer you also have to be a good editor. I’m falling in love with the rewrite: letting things fall apart so something better can come together.
I’m listening to jazz. I’ve never been the kind of person who “likes jazz”, or maybe I just haven’t let myself be the kind of person who likes jazz, but thanks to the suggested playlists on Spotify, I’m listening to new artists and discovering jazz is not dead, and it’s actually really good. It’s not all high school bands that don’t quite play in tune and awkward renditions of Christmas songs.
The less I consume media with very typical ideas of what is pretty, the more I’m able to define what my own definition of beauty is. It’s still abstract, and hard to nail down, and coming into my own is rather messy at times. It feels like the things that should have been done years ago, but I was a little busy trying not to die. So I’m doing it now. Similarly to discovering I love jazz, I’m discovering I like out of the box shapes and I aspire to look like a walking sunrise. I take a lot of inspiration from “vintage fashion” (which pains me to say when I actually remember the 90s and take great issue with my childhood being described as vintage. I’m sure others share the sentiment). The 70s and the 90s particularly have fashion looks I love, and I’m a big fan of the feathered hair. When the “clean girl” aesthetic is in (is it still in?) it feels a little avant-garde to like something thats not that.
I feel more peaceful. The constant hum of social media isn’t something that is sustainable to human wellness, I fear. We’re constantly bombarded with the suffering of people we’ve never met contrasted with the new designer shoes a colleague bought. The sound of an email notification has been known to give me a higher shot of adrenaline than coffee these days, and that’s not the life I want to live. So unplugging from the realm of digital connecting, while mildly anxiety inducing at first, settles into this feeling of calm. I wonder how much all of our mental wellness would improve not being so chronically online.
There’s also more room to be sad. When I’m not constantly numbing my feelings with the scroll, there comes this wave of everything I avoided while numbing out on social media. I’ve taken up a morning sitting practice (with the fierce boundary of I’m not allowed to check my emails before I’ve sat). I turn on the red lights in my office, sit in front of the mirror right on the floor, and practice some sort of somatic centring or breath work or meditation. I do this to feel more grounded when I do show up, and to remember what I feel like as a person without constantly being told who I am by other people. Sometimes feelings come. Sometimes sadness, sometimes anger, sometimes I just sit. Often times my monkey mind will run amok, as it does. But the continued practice of just showing up to sit with whatever shows up is soothing.
