How quitting social media saved my career

I’m what you call an “elder millennial”. Which means I not only remember a time before social media, (when “online” was something you were for an hour after dinner, so you could Alta Vista-search for images of handsome celebrities), but I also remember the early days of the social web, with its online communities, chat rooms, ICQ, all the way up until the launch of Facebook and Twitter.

Initially, I eagerly embraced social media. For an introvert like me, it was the perfect solution. A life hack that allowed me to date and have friends without having to party and “hang out” with people. Social media made up for my lack of small-talk skills. I could be my funniest, and most well-spoken self when sharing my thoughts online. I could socialize without having to put on a bra and leave my house.

When I later went freelance and became an entrepreneur/content creator, social media became even more crucial. I built my entire business around it. And in doing so, upped my usage times ten. I managed not only my own multiple online presences, but several consulting clients’ as well. My phone buzzed non-stop. I felt like a very important person. And it was exciting being “always on.” Never bored, always busy.

For a few years, this was my life and I loved it. Then it crept up on me slowly: how being always connected really made me feel. How I was self-harming by compulsively overwhelming myself with others’ content, comparing myself to them. How my work got increasingly difficult; I was losing my ability to write or work or think while being constantly interrupted by glowing red badges, pop-up boxes and push notifications.

It took me a while to identify the feeling I had every morning when putting TweetDeck in full screen on my second monitor. Not excitement. Not a feeling of control. But a feeling of nauseous vertigo. Of exhaustion. I saw my routine of scrolling social feeds in bed for what it was: not a gentle way to wake up and catch up with my favorite creators. But a way to punch myself so hard in the stomach with “comperisonitis” that it took the breath out of me.

I gradually wrote less and less in my blog.

I struggled with coming up with stuff to post in my Instagram feed.

And I started to feel disgusted with the person I was online. The special voice I used in order to seem cool and witty (and have a chance at a re-tweet.) My pathetic attempts at flatlay photos or selfies for Instagram. My 2500-word-long “how to” blog posts, where I desperately tried to sound like an expert.

But also disgust for the person I was offline: Always distracted. Always on my phone. Always looking for the next thing to photograph for my feed. A sunset. A glass of wine. My fucking feet on a sun-bed in front of a pool. I even started planning my days so that I would have interesting stuff to post. My regular life as a stay-at-home-introvert was too boring to share online. And I was working hard to cover that up.

One Christmas eve, I had just arrived at my mom’s house. It was beautifully decorated as usual. My family was there, chill-out music was playing, and the air smelled of mulled wine and saffron buns. And in my mind, all I could hear was: “Gotta take pictures of the tree and the dining room table” “I could write about this or that, maybe with a punchline of x or z, or some valuable takeaway of yada yada blah blah.”

Instead, I just threw in the towel. I couldn’t take it anymore. I posted something about choosing to be fully present instead of being on my phone. And that was my last post on Instagram, and on any social media, for several years.

Who was I with no one around to validate me? What would my life be like if it wasn’t perpetually broadcasted on Instagram? I didn’t know. I needed to find out.

My first epiphany? How easy it was.

After all the articles I’d read online about people going on social media detoxes, I expected it to be hard. Like “quitting sugar” hard. But all I felt was joy. And an almost dizzying sense of freedom.

Sure, I sometimes did that thing where you open your homescreen and just stare at it like an idiot, not sure what to do. And then ending up checking the weather app for ten minutes. But when I remembered there was nothing there for me to do, I was just relieved.

Did I ever relapse? Yes, a few times, and only with Instagram. A while back, I started a brand new account to share my journey as a self-taught artist. After a few months, I could conclude that: No, Instagram is not easier or more fun for artists. Quite the contrary. And no, people generally don’t want to buy your paintings there. That’s just not how it works.

Every time I‘ve re-dipped my toe into IG, all I’ve ever gotten is bored and tired. Bored with the overwhelming stream of “look at me/my face/my breakfast/my baby/my fancy hotel balcony view” content that I couldn’t possibly keep up with. Tired of all the ads, the minimum-effort “nice pic” comments, and the endless Stories full of long rants, or 300 photos from someone’s forest walk.

Not exposing myself to all this was a luxury. I didn’t miss it even a little bit.

Second epiphany: How much better I felt.

It’s not really a surprise that I became more relaxed, content and present when off social media. I no longer started my days feeling ugly, lazy and worthless compared to everyone else. I didn’t have to stress out over increasing my followers, answering comments and coming up with stuff to post.

I think deep down, most of us know we would be happier with less screentime. There are more and more studies to back it up. Plenty of evidence that we feel less alone, less depressed and less stressed out when we’re not scrolling Instagram every day. But we’re scared to put that to the test. Scared to lose something we don’t even know we could lose.

The only thing that really scared me about quitting social media was how it would impact my business. Could I really be a (sufficiently) successful entrepreneur and freelancer and NOT be on any social media? Did I dare to find that out for myself? But it came to a point where I didn’t care anymore. If being a business owner demanded this sacrifice of me, then I would not be a business owner. I would do something else. My happiness and emotional health was more important than my success as an entrepreneur.

Imagine my surprise when… Third epiphany:

Quitting social media did not ruin my career. It kind of saved it.

A few months into my first social media hiatus, I read “Deep Work”, by Cal Newport. And like most of the people talking about this book, it changed my life. And my career. For those of you who have not yet read it: Deep Work is about how our technological and social habits are diminishing our ability to focus, think deeply and do meaningful work. And how these skills will make or break us in the new economy. (And well, in today’s economy as well.) Specifically, the book mentions social media as one of those technological habits that we imagine gives us lots of advantages, but that’s mostly a distraction that eats away at our ability to get real work done. Or build real, long-lasting relationships.

“Deep Work” gave me a major wake up call. I had been pouring hours of my time and attention every day into a system that was using and abusing me. Using my content to help keep others hooked. Whoring me out to advertisers. Doing psychological experiments on me. Eroding my capacity to think, feel, focus and be present in my life.

I was inspired to make changes.

Apart from taking the final steps to delete my social accounts, I also got my email routine under control. No notifications, no mindless checking throughout the day.

I started using the app Freedom to disconnect from the internet so that I could get some undistracted work time.

I started writing and putting out content regularly.

I built my online business steadily and grew my email list from a few hundred to a few thousand subscribers.

I even self-published a book.

I can’t imagine having done any of those things while maintaining an active social media presence. I honestly don’t know how everybody else does it. How do other people manage to stay creative, productive and sane while being on Twitter, Instagram and TikTok? Is it just my elder millennial brain?

What I do know is that I like myself, and my work, a lot more without the presence of social media in my life.

I’m saving 10+ hours a week by not having to bend over backwards to feed the algorithms and respond to comments.

My workdays are peaceful and productive, (well, most days anyways.) I think deeper thoughts and have more ideas. My attention span is longer than three minutes. I’ve probably doubled the quantity, but more importantly, the quality of the work I do.

I still get traffic to my site. My work gets discovered somehow. I had no problem getting clients back when I was a freelancer. People found me on Google, or via word-of-mouth. Or I just contacted prospective clients myself.

All the possible reasons I might have for using social media — getting my work out there, connecting with my people, growing my audience and my business — I can do without social media. I can use better platforms and methods to get my work out into the world, and get it in front of people. And if my work is good enough, it will be spread around.

There are no shortcuts to building a dedicated audience for your work. Algorithms come and go, but great work remains. No matter where you put your stuff, the rules are the same: Be so good you can’t be ignored.

I wish I had understood that years ago. I wish I had spent less time obsessing over reach, follower counts, and likes, and more time honing my craft and putting out work I was really proud of. Work with a lifespan longer than 24 hours.

I think we’re entering a new era of quality over quantity when it comes to the content we consume, and the people we choose to follow. Our brains are exhausted and overwhelmed, (at least mine is.) Our inboxes and feeds are overflowing. And online creators are getting burnt out at higher rates than ever. None of can really keep up. But these social media companies egg us on anyways, for their benefit.

Can you use social media in a sustainable and productive way? Probably. (Or, so I’ve heard.) I do believe there are ways to make these platforms work for you and not as much against you. I’ve had brief luck with that in the past, but only temporarily. My efforts have never really been worth it, and it would always end the same way: with me scrolling for hours each day, getting overwhelmed and depressed, and probably buying a bunch of dumb stuff off of the ads. Because I suck, my self-discipline sucks, and I’m helpless against their teams of professional behaviour engineers.

I’m not saying you have to, or should, quit social media. Especially if you currently enjoy being on there. I’m just saying you can quit, if you want to. Life is just fine here on the other side.

I guess I’m trying to write the kind of post I would have wanted to read years ago. When I was sick of it all and desperately wanted an excuse to quit, but all I ever saw was articles about how to SUCCEED on social media. How to beat the algorithm, go viral and live happily ever after.

So now I’ll say it once and for all: You don’t have to be on social media, not even as a freelancer/creative business owner/writer/artist. You can have an awesome career and build a business on your own terms. There are plenty of other methods to grow your audience, make your voice heard and your art seen.

All while staying sane and in control of your time and attention — your most valuble assets as a creative and a human being.