ARTICLE

I made my first website when I was eleven years old on Geocities. It was a tribute to the Spice Girls, with a page counter, under construction gif and links to other fan pages like “Patrick’s Spicy Page”. Ever since I taught myself how to create a hyperlink I’ve been extremely online. I loved the internet more than my own father. And I loved my father because he introduced me to the internet. Nothing sparked joy more than the sound of the modem connection, and my computer, eventually laptop was the only constant in my life. Hence why for me the early days of the social web was ecstatic. Our little photography community on DeviantArt and Flickr was a pivotal time for all of us about to launch careers in art, design and advertising.

Then Facebook entered the scene. If I were to pick a day it all began to go downhill for me it was when Facebook opened its gates to everyone around the world and my notifications flooded with friend requests from random men ten years my senior. I enjoyed the attention at first but the ego boost lost its effect on me leaving behind a permanent state of uneasiness. Like the feeling you get as if something bad is about to happen to you but it never really does.

Mobile apps started rolling in and Facebook, later Instagram, kept redesigning their apps to optimize for unbridled attention. Quantity of money and power, over quality of life. But hey it’s free.

I like free stuff like the next person. But what I don’t like is to be manipulated out of my own free will. When I started to notice the brains of the people I love show signs of rewiring and effecting their life choices and relationships, it became personal. At some point my anger turned into a desire for vengeance and I started working on a competing social app. Ever since then I’ve been trying to quit its products.

This winter, after several attempts that spanned four year, I finally feel like I’ve succeeded.

With a heart that longs for the early internet and grieves for online adventures lost, I present to you what has changed and if you’re ever inclined, how to join me:


After deleting my Instagram, Twitter and Facebook accounts I have less anxiety. Less voices pulling me in different directions. More clarity towards things I like and dislike. And I wish I was exaggerating but more joy. I started cooking regularly for the first time.

During my first attempt I fell into depression, feeling a loss of self, friendships and community. By my final attempt I’d learned how to prepare differently.

First I made sure to prioritize relationships that matter to me. Who do I love lately? A funny question to ask but when honestly answered makes all the difference. Then I decided to stop collecting people. I made peace with letting go of a part of my own history, my accumulated acquaintances and pseudo followers. I decided to treasure those who are still here, those I have a heart connection to. I began to listen more carefully to friends and my surroundings, lifting the curtains to share more and more of myself and to practice being vulnerable. I started taking socializing as seriously as my career. With things as simple as going to the movies on a Friday night.

Second, I understood what entertains me. I love a good laugh, I like being surprised, learning new things and tapping into the zeitgeist. So when I quit Twitter I set an hour limit on my iPhone for TikTok. Striking a balance is hard but it pays. I pay attention to what type of content I’m consuming, curate my algorithm as much as possible and have the notifications turned off. I also watch sitcoms, read books and substacks, listen to music, work out, continue photography and work on my children’s book. Parts of my ADHD characteristics I don’t enjoy are gone and I finally have a morning routine. My days are now resonant with my own voice and the voices I love and permit. Less ads, less ads under the guise of acquaintances, consequently less longing, less manufactured desire. More quiet, more space.

Lots and lots of space. An absolutely terrifying, disgusting amount of space… Which brings me to my last and maybe most important point. Don’t quit social media until you learn to sit in the great void. Otherwise it’s confusing and lonely.

The various afflictions that have come my way have taught me that the great void isn’t something to be a–voided but the masterful nurturer. When I became an adult and stopped spending time in the void I lost a very powerful part of myself. I lost control of the vehicle that takes me to my imagination, creativity and faith. When I finally remembered and learned to sit in the void again I felt like I was back in the driver’s seat.

To sit in the great void is to submerge oneself in silence, to the depths of our bodies. Allowing for any and all pictures and emotions to emerge. The jealousy, the color, the ravenous ambitions, the grief, disappointment, passion and rage, the potentiality of our greatness, and the reality of our smallness. It all matters, and it’s all waiting to be seen, accepted, actualized or transformed. And there’s time, and patience. But the sooner we lock eyes, indulge in ourselves and sort things out regularly, the sooner we’ll live in sustained peace. Eliminating the pain and confusion that requires distraction from a push notification.

The great void is reliable, accessible 24/7 and hey it’s free.

The more attention I’ve given to my pain and to the love I carry, the less I’ve needed to be distracted. For the first time in my life the quality of peace has began to surface, pushing out everything but me and you.