Social Media Detox
Protecting Your Creativity
In May, I stepped off the social media. What began as a one-week break stretched into two, then three—not because I was disciplined, but because life intervened. A work deadline loomed. My novel rewrite demanded attention. And suddenly, I realized: I didn’t miss it. Not the endless scroll, not the performative posting, not the algorithmic whiplash of cooking hacks, feminist theory, and celebrity gossip (seriously, Instagram, I do not care about the Met Gala).
For weeks, I’d been using every free moment trying to "keep up"—posting two articles and a blog weekly, churning out reels, maintaining a presence on Bluesky and LinkedIn. My creative energy was fractured. I wasn’t able to really focus on any one thing. The more I posted, the less I created. My writing became flat, I bored myself. And the noise! Absorbing hundreds of videos and posts each week feels relentless. The churning content mill, starts to feel eerily similar—not quite real, not quite fake, just... samey. Like being trapped in an elevator playing remixed versions of the same three songs forever.
During my SM detox, something unexpected happened: my brain quieted. The constant hum of "shoulds" (should post, should engage, should share a friend’s story) faded. I stopped reflexively reaching for my phone during idle moments. I sat with my own thoughts—no wondering how to rehash an idea to post in 5 different ways, no metrics, just me and work that I find important. That work, I realise, might never be important to anyone else. It might just be me posting letters into the ether forever. And that’s ok.
What’s important is that you are happy with what you’re creating.
Now, I’m trying approaching social media differently. I batch posts to avoid having the constant stress of needing to ‘create content’. Last week I drafted twelve weeks’ worth of blog posts and articles in one focused sprint. While they are in no way finished or ready to share, it’s a start which frees up a lot of creative energy. No more weekly scrambling. Hours wasted wondering what topic to write about. No more constant context-switching between content and novel. Just dedicated blocks of time for each priority—including my real goal: finishing my novel rewrite by the end of June.
Now when I do briefly check feeds often it all felt bizarrely inconsequential. Life continues regardless of the latest bizarre news story or viral trend.
You are not the algorithm. Your worth isn’t measured in likes, your creativity can’t be hacked by trends, and no AI can replicate the weird, wonderful specificity of you.
Stepping away reminded me that the carousel never stops—but you can choose whether to ride it. And if you step off? The ride continues, but you get to breathe.
If you’re feeling frayed by the digital onslaught, try this:
1. Take a micro-break (even 48 hours resets your nervous system).
2. Notice what fills the void (I played piano, painted and listened to audio books while deep cleaning my house).
3. Protect your creative core—batch tasks, set boundaries, and ask: Is this serving my real goals, or just the platform?
The content mill will always make you feel like you need to do more, but your art—and your sanity—are need protecting.
However you choose to engage (or disengage), remember: the most subversive thing you can do in an age of algorithms is to stay fiercely, unapologetically human.
P.S. If you’ve taken a social media break, what did you learn? I’d love to hear your stories—comment below (or, you know, tell me in person, like the analog rebels we are).