I spend less when I'm not online
notes on discontentment
I have just finished a three-week stint away from social media. I paired it with a challenge to spend as many hours as I could screen-free in general, so that I wasn’t merely replacing my habitual scroll on Instagram with movie-watching, texting, or luxuriating in pseudo-inspiration on Pinterest. And I hate to sound like one of those people who spread the screen-free life like the Gospel but…there’s a reason we’re all raving about it. It was a delight.
My reasons for taking a break this time were the typical reasons I usually take breaks: because I notice myself getting hooked on the dopamine boosts, losing track of time: just one more video; just catching up on this person’s stories. I feel connected to my friends because I know what they had for lunch. I feel connected to strangers because I know their favorite architect. I feel connected to my siblings because I know they went surfing yesterday. In reality, I’m disconnected from all these, and my husband who is sitting on the opposite end of the couch watching TikTok at full volume.
Plus, these three weeks led up to my thirty-second birthday: something I wanted to enter feeling fully awake. I’d like to think that I have learned how to use social media in a slightly more healthy way the last few years - more frequent breaks, more edited feed, more intentional posts, an ability to set my phone aside and forget where it is. And that’s true, I guess. I have spent less time online than ever in the last year. I’m proud of that progress.
Yet still, here I am again: feeling oddly obsessed with the lateral wrinkles in my forehead and how nobody else seems to have them anymore. Is it filters? Botox? Are my genes just tragic? I overspend because I’m inspired by the thrifting accounts I follow, or I’m having a bad body-image day because of the perfect-seeming faces and bodies I’ve seen online, and I want to buy a new outfit; it’s kind of scary to me that my difficulty keeping a budget is so directly impacted by my hours spent online. Not to mention how susceptible I am to marketing-propaganda: the algorithms have read me well, and everything I see is perfect for me. I never knew how badly I wanted to repaint my bedroom. I was never insecure about the shape of my fingernails till I saw all the cute nail art that could never fit on fingertips like mine. And let’s not even get started on “hot takes,” news alerts, and political postings. My capacity for compassion, understanding, and empathy are rarely boosted by what I read online.
More and more, I crave a simple life. The few things I love about social media (its ability to help me “keep up” with long-distant friends I care about but don’t have margin to speak to regularly, the truly creative things I witness people making and doing) are true and worthy of noting…but I can’t seem to figure out how those things outweigh the negative effects on my habits, brain, and spirit. I’m not quitting right now (possibly never fully quitting), but I am going to continue the practice of minimizing my relationship with social media.
Here are some beautiful things that I have noticed begin to emerge whenever I detox:
Relationships with my family and choice friends become more intentional - I reach out because I am not going to stay in touch by accident, and these relationships matter to me. In turn, these interactions become some of the most meaningful I’ve had with these people in months!
My marriage is stronger. Not only am I spending quality time with Andrew, but I’m also awake to the small moments that either build appreciation for him, or bring opportunity for me to express affection and admiration for who he is and the things he does.
My attention span lengthens - almost instantly, my brain settles into a low-speed that allows focus. I make an effort not to multi-task. I put my mind out to pasture in moments that I’d usually fill with scrolling. Thoughts drift through like puffy clouds. It’s positively bucolic in there.
I appreciate silence - we recently bought a new-to-us, used car and while we are waiting a couple weeks to replace the radio with something more Bluetooth/USB compatible, I have been driving around town….in silence. Of course I could play something on my phone, or turn on the still-working radio. But I just….haven’t. I let my ears have a rest, and focus on driving. I kind of really love that margin.
My stress-level plummets - the human brain (let alone our soul!) was not meant to consume as much information at such a pace as we do in our modern era. It’s mentally and emotionally taxing. When I am not monitoring notifications, posts, reactions, and messages, I literally feel like I’ve had a head-massage.
Truly creative ideas return - something I find when I’ve lived too long online is that even if I’m lucky enough to have creative ideas, they’re mostly referential. My art is responding to something I’ve seen, read, heard, or watched online. Nothing feels fresh or original. And I hardly ever move into acting on these ideas. When I’ve got only thirty minutes before work, why would I pull out my watercolor paints? I’ll just watch a vlog my favorite illustrator just released.
I have capacity for the things that need my attention - rather than feeling pre-exhausted by the amount of stress, chaos, suffering, and anger in the world I scrolled by, when I’m away from social media I have energy for the conversations and actions that matter. I see people. I do research. I am slow to form judgements. I am quick to lend aide. I’m altogether a more functional piece of community.
I spend less money - this is embarrassing but true. When I’m not inspired by my own bougie taste, the meals I’m seeing people cook with hyper-local produce and artisan cheese, the home-renovation projects, stylish outfits, once in a lifetime thrift-store finds, and glowing skincare products, I am much more content with what I have. In fact, I begin to look around at the items I already own and think, “What could I do without? Is there anything I could give away or sell?” and I haul off one more bag to donate. Margin to practice gratitude seems to directly impact financial margin. It’s my newest revelation about a low screen-time life, and I’m still shocked at how true it is for me.
I hope you know I’m not trying to advocate some Luddite philosophy that thinks technology is bad. I am impressed by technology and appreciate the ways it makes my life easier. I love the opportunities social media can create. But I am a highly-impressionable human being with a brain that is wired to be easily hacked by things like marketing and notifications, and falls prey to them pretty much without defense at this point. At the same time, I’m also a human who wants her feel-good brain chemicals to come from things outside of the glowing computer screen or pocket-sized god. I’ve set up a grayscale shortcut for my iPhone that I can click on for times I want to focus or diminish the appeal of my phone. It’s amazing how boring the same apps look in grey. And for the times I need to speak candidly to myself because the technicolor candy-land that is social media has convinced me of a thousand things I’d be “happier” or “healthier” possessing? Here’s a few de-influencing comments I wrote down for myself the first week I was spending away from social media. (Logic helps me reign in my wild horse called Desire every time.)
I do not need to buy new Hokas just because I chose a color that looks more “chronically dirty” than silver. Until my feet hurt from the support being worn out, they are still serviceable. Note to self: do not by the “cloud/nimbus” colorway.
If I run out of face sunscreen but still have regular sunscreen and an SPF moisturizer, I do not need to repurchase the face sunscreen. My skin will be fine with the all-purpose stuff.
My bedroom does not need to be repainted just because I no longer enjoy the color.
Owning a full-length mirror is a want, not a need.
My bedsheets are fine. Linen sheets are not a must.
It is not a national crisis that my fridge makes normal ice-cubes instead of pebble ice.
I do not need bangs. We have established I do not look good in bangs.
I do not need a special tool just to help me style the bangs I do not look good in.
White-gold and silver jewelry are just as stylish as gold jewelry.
I do not need to vacation in an exotic place to feel rested and restored.
An in-season tomato is delicious even if it’s a completely basic variety bought at a grocery store.
All mascara has virtually the same impact. Pick one and stick with it.
Ditto blush.
Frequently repeating outfits is normal and healthy, not boring.
Workouts done at home can be just as impactful as those done at a Pilates studio or spin class.
I don’t need to own a robe, as I do not enjoy lounging around for long periods of time before getting on with it.
One winter coat is enough for anybody living in a temperate climate.
I can make any iced drink as good as Starbucks (the argument weakens against higher-brow coffee shops)
Tan-lines are not a problem that needs solving.
Neither is having thin lips.
I do not need aesthetic scissors for gardening - I have three pairs of scissors already, and a pair of pruning shears.
Sourdough bread made with conventional flour is not inferior to bread made with expensive heirloom flours.
Using regular shaving cream is not going to demolish my hormones.
My dishes don’t have to match.
I don’t have to use tallow as moisturizer - I don’t enjoy smelling like a hamburger.
I can work out just as well in a free rec center gym as I can at my old gym that cost us $45/month.
If you have long hair, you really only need 1-2 claw clips, a few hair ties, some bobby pins, and a scrunchy to do any number of hair styles.
I can do a decent pedicure at home.
Non “Hollywood white” teeth are normal
I only need to use a shampoo bar and a conditioner bar to get “my best hair.” Extra products have never made it prettier or smoother.
We need to replace our sliding door, but since we can still open and close it, this is not an emergency repair.
I’m forever thankful for slow-media platforms like Substack that are heavy on the “read it when you can” and low on the dopamine hits. I love how I can write to you, or read someone else’s thoughts, and know that I’m adding only useful, pleasant, non-harmful things to the online world. And I hope that you, reader, might consider taking even one day this week where you black out the social media apps that have such a hold over our collective minds. You will feel so much more alive, and it’s going to be the best thing you’ve done in a while. I’m rooting for us all, and continued better relationships with the constant new technology we are riding like a whitewater whirlpool. This Substack newsletter is here to make space for the slow stuff. Thanks for spending a bit of your time lingering with these words today. I appreciate each and every one of you who reads this publication. I appreciate the technology that gives me the chance to share words with you. I appreciate everyone who tries their best. We’re going to make it through!
Love,
Rachel
P.S. Here are several Substack posts and a book that have helped condense my thoughts/feelings regarding this subject over the past few weeks. If you’re interested in learning more about this subject, I recommend these reads. Nobody’s judging, everyone is yearning. It’s a real lovely moment of consideration.
The End of Our Extremely Online Era by Tommy Dixon on Substack
Boring Girl Summer by Lauren Marie on Substack
We Should All Talk To Strangers by Angelina Hazzouri on Substack
Your phone is why you don’t feel sexy by Catherine Shannon on Substack
The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry by John Mark Comer (book)
Yes 🙌🏻 We’re a single income household and have been pretty good about limiting unnecessary spending… but I was still looking at my feed and wanting, and I was just stewing in discontent. I’ve gradually cut ties with short form media and am delighted with how much more delightful my life is with less comparison.