I deactivated my Facebook for half a year– here’s why
I come from a generation of Facebook-a-holics. We were first in-line to experience the transition from a plethora of instant-messaging internet services before settling down to the now infamous ‘Facebook Profile’. Having spent over 10 years religiously addicted to Facebook, mindlessly scrolling and wasting my time, I decided it was time for a breakup.
Around 6 months ago, possibly triggered after watching the exceptionally well produced Netflix Docudrama “The Social Dilemma”, I thought long and hard about quitting the platform for good. I finally realized that this process of needless scrolling, liking and commenting was taking too much of my attention, and I noticed that the app was a constant trigger which did nothing but fuel my anxiety.
I like to assume that I am generally a very happy, positive person, but I’m also a human being with flaws.
I realized that this platform was causing me to be more envious than usual, seeing photos of ‘friends from 10 years ago’ having the time of their lives (or at least they looked so). While I enjoyed all the irrelevant drama on Facebook early on, I now realize that these were conversations I had no business being a part of.
Then came along the constant notifications– over time Facebook had become this sour tooth eyeing for your constant attention.
‘Hey, look at this memory from 2008’
‘[Insert random friend] posted a status’
These notifications served me no purpose.
By enabling all these interactions; Facebook inserts itself between you and other people. Think about it– your feed is curated by these incredibly advanced computer algorithms developed by Facebook. They have the best team of experts and engineers whose sole role is working on this ‘product’. But the word product here is very ‘misleading’.
What is Facebook’s product?
You are the their product.
Facebook is a business, and they’re extremely successful. Every click, every post, every engagement, and tracking your every move on the internet helps them make tremendous amounts of money.
The part that brings us joy on Facebook is not complicated, it’s what they’re doing behind the scenes. Tracking your data, analyzing it, tweaking the delivery and maximizing their algorithm to keep you addicted is scary stuff.
While you can control your ‘privacy settings’, they’re unnecessarily complicated allowing Facebook’s viral hoax to continue spreading.
Early in 2021, I was out running one morning at Villimale’ and witnessed this beautiful sunrise that spread across the sky. It was a beautiful radiant red, and the hues of it covered the entirety of the horizon. I stood in awe silently observing the beauty, along came a few handful runners whom were out by the water. We all took in what mother nature had to offer us.
Except this was far from the truth.
Before I knew it, all our phones were out and we all became glued to our screens. I bent over, distorted the camera lens to my best as I tried hard to capture a ‘perfect picture’ for my audience.
While doing this, I’d simultaneously think of a ‘solid’ caption, the right hashtags, and the filters.
On my way back to male’, I’d taken the otherwise short and scenic ferry ride back, paraphrasing the lines and adding ‘emojis’ around my perfect caption. Perfect.
What a perfect post.
Then it hit me.
I had forgotten how to enjoy something beautiful without the need for validation. Something that was so personal to me, had become something that needed ‘sharing’.
I knew that I needed to relearn how to enjoy the beauty of my life without the need to capture and caption them.
Overtime, I realized the importance of my privacy and that not everyone needed to know what time I got up, where I was traveling, what I did and ‘how I was feeling’ (looking at you, Facebook status)
While I’ve thought of quitting the app multiple times prior to this instance–I also happen to be in charge of social media at my job who manages all our work profiles.
Now, how do I achieve this (and not get fired from work?)
- Deactivate, Delete, Log-out.
While I thought of putting out a post to say that I was taking some time off, I realized it defeats the whole purpose of this exercise. The easiest way to quit would be to go to settings and hit ‘deactivate’–That’s exactly what I did. - I turned off notifications on all social media apps
At the same time, I deleted the Facebook app and turned off all notifications for Twitter and Instagram. I also signed out of my personal Twitter account on my phone, restricting the app only for work accounts. - I created alternate logins for Facebook and Twitter (for work)
As my accounts were no longer active, I created a pseudo alias and went along with my job–nothing needed to stop. But seeing Facebook stripped down to this bare bone state, without any ‘real friends’ made me realize that I was not actually missing out on anything. The app was basically a mix of targeted ads, the occasional funny meme and drama. Lots of drama.
At this point, I started the process of separating myself from the version of that exists on social media, while regaining my time that had previously been lost in the midst of all the meaningless scrolling.
What next?
After I was done erasing the apps off my phone, I had to actively resist going back online.
It was a difficult process. I got occasional callouts when I told people I quit. My muscle memory would cause me to scroll and flick my phone, even while it was off.
But overtime, I realized I did not miss the scrolling, and this abstinence got easier.
Sadly, I realized that overtime I forgot about some people that I don’t see ‘online’ anymore. It’s not that I missed seeing their ‘updates’, but as most of these people had lived rent free over my digital life for so long, when I finally quit I wasn’t faced with their updates, and their lives suddenly didn’t seem to occupy as much of my attention.
These people had become a memory I had to work on recalling, rather than me being able to immediately recall what they had for breakfast that morning (it was cereal, mind you)
- So. Much. Free. Time
Right off the bat, with the added free time thanks in part to the pandemic, I noticed I was more productive and more present. I had 16–17 hour days which began at 5 am. I would go out running every morning, without posting a single update social media update. My attention span increased. I could sit through a full 2-hour movie without flicking through my phone. I slept better–so much better.
Over the last 6 months, I’ve read more books than in any other year of my adulthood. I changed the way I consume media– and I only watch what I actively want to watch. I could watch my Youtube for hours and still find meaningful and worthwhile content. I deliberately look for creators that spark my interest, and wait out till I am done finishing one video before moving on to the next. More importantly, I do this for my own gratitude and happiness–not with the intention to post or to gloat.
I’ve also found the time to finally write (hey fellow reader), which is something I’ve wanted to get into, but never ‘found the time’.
Funny how you have so much time when you remove a few apps from your phone.
2. My relationship with social media.
I had to rewire my brain to see life without a social media lens, and the end goal was to reach a point in my life where; I no longer think to ‘post’, I no longer take photos to ‘caption’, nor do I ‘tweet’ to go viral or post on the ‘gram’ for likes.
While I browse Twitter from time to time, my key takeaway is that what I read on the platform is never really reflected in real life. It makes me sad.
3. My relationship with my phone
It’s funny how not using social media on our smartphones forces us to rethink what a phone could do. I no longer reach to my phone to check what ‘my friends are up to’. I actually use it to be productive, to get work done, to connect with people that matter to me. I am finding new patterns of behavior to break, which is critical as technology shamelessly intrudes into so many aspects of our lives.
While these screens were a convenience at first, they have overstayed their visit.
What did I miss?
Social media has drastically changed how people share their experiences. When you’re on social media, one post and you can presume the majority of the people know. So I now find that I don’t always know the key moments of someone who is absent from my life.
Here’s one instance — I realized someone close to me had a baby; after they had the baby.
Which begs the questions–Is this different from how news was shared before social media was a thing?
Not really, no.
6 months later
Six months on, there are a couple of things that I need to remind myself to do.
I don’t take as many photos, and I’ve missed out on some important memories that I would’ve otherwise liked to hold on to.
In contrast though, there is a sense of freedom and clarity– not having to think of a caption, add a filter, think how well a post would be received.
Above all, I’ve realized that I don’t miss Facebook.
I don’t miss the clickbait videos, tagging friends, poking friends (yeah, remember that?) or all the drama pages that never seem to run out of content.
Those that need my time have managed to do so. They know how to reach me. They have done it for the last 6 months.
I find that I’m a happier person without the distractions of Facebook. My life, surprise-surprise, has continued without any problems. Except, I now have more time, I’m more productive and I’m drama-free.
The irony of this situation is with my choice to return to Facebook and social media two weeks ago.
While I might be back on the platform, the way I consume it now is drastically different.
I now see it from a different light; I only log in occasionally to check an update, and I see no point in posting meaningless updates that benefit no one but Facebook analytics.
I no longer have the apps on my phone and I use it exclusively on my computer.
I don’t even know what my Facebook password is.
My password manager populates it for me.
Our culture yearns for our attention, but sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves is to switch off and focus on the present. The stakes could not be higher; Facebook (among others) are doing what billion dollar corporations are supposed to do– increase their power and influence to help them make more money.
If we’re allowing a corporation to profit off our ‘personal interactions’, I feel like we’ve all done a very bad job negotiating our end of the deal.
Think of it this way– would you sell your photos, likes, clicks, location data, messages and your entire digital life to a company in exchange for a ‘free’ entry pass?
I certainly would not.
Remember this — If you don’t take back control of your ‘digital life’, someone else out there on the internet happily will.
