June: My Month of Silence

I have a love-hate relationship with Instagram. I'm on it, then I'm off it, then I'm back on it again. It's complicated; while I enjoy Instagram for the surge of happy hormones it delivers, I resent social media as a whole. All people care about anymore is going viral, and they'd rather invest their lives into being famous on the internet than being decent human beings. None of it's real; from the photos we see of Insta models with Facetune and body editing, to people showing off because views are social currency; it doesn't bring me joy nor fulfillment.. When people add me on IG they assume I am popular and live this extravagant life without realizing I'm just another lost soul on the internet, and I only have about 2 friends IRL. The apps are misleading and for me, it's just another avenue to numb and dissociate from the responsibilities of daily life. While I make money occasionally from collabs and sponsorships, I find social platforms do little more than give me another 50 reasons to feel like a failure and hate myself. And so over one month ago, I decided to deactivate the app for as long as I could. I went from nearly 6 hours of screen time to now 30 minutes a day, which is mostly from the podcasts I listen to and Youtube videos I watch. I don't miss the pings of false gratification whenever I'd upload a new story or a thirsty guy would tell me I'm pretty. I don't miss watching what random people are doing with their lives. Do I miss the memes and sending my friends posts? Sometimes. But the last 8 weeks of being on/off the grid has provided me with more pleasure than a 30 second reel ever could.

It's Monday April 29 and I'm on my bedroom floor with my head in my hands. Mascara is dripping down my face and burning into my eyes. My heart is to my knees and I feel physically sick. Its been a rough few days after what could have been a fun trip to Rome. My intentions were good but the outcome couldn't have been less than ideal. I fell into the trap of yet another fuck boy after the 500th time of not learning my lesson. To make matters worse, I had a falling out with one of the few people I loved the most in this life. To be ghosted by a dude I hardly knew and went out with a few times is one thing, but to get into a fight and lose someone I've cared about for years was the ultimate cherry on top of the shittiest sundae possible. I don't know that I've ever felt so embarrassed, and the humiliation could eat me alive. I feel so ashamed to the point where I don't want anyone to be able to see me, contact me or even remember my existence. So I delete my Instagram and change my number on Whatsapp. Something seriously needs to change, I tell myself. It's impulsive and drastic I know, but I can't go on like this. Enough is enough.

The last two years have changed a lot but one thing has remained a constant; the type of men who enter my life. When I finally broke up with my narcissistic ex during the summer of 22, I knew I had a lot of healing in store. Being in yet another abusive relationship for two years not only sucked the life out of me, but it destroyed any semblance of self esteem I had left. I was constantly reminded what a bad girlfriend I was, how I was either too much or not enough, all the ways I wasn't wearing enough makeup or my clothes weren't nice. Apparently I was so undesirable that my ex didn't want to sleep with nor spend time with me, even when I begged him to please just fuck me out of pity so that I could at least feel something. When a new guy came along after him, with whom I met in Italy, I initially thought it'd be just a fling; a one night stand that would maybe turn into a rebound. But I saw him the next day, and then the next. He continued to talk to me after I left Europe and little did I know that I would fall head over heels in love with this boy for the next two years. I could've never expected what happened next (and I really wish I didn't have to).

Being that I never had a father figure in my life, men have always been my downfall. Trying to get a man to be available for me and meet my needs in the way my dad never could became my greatest mission in life. But I never had much success in this area. Despite getting a lot of male attention and constantly being told how attractive I am, I found myself getting repeatedly rejected by my hearts desire. If I actually did end up getting into a relationship with the apple of my eye, the rug would be pulled out from beneath me and the relationship would end up being disappointing, toxic and even violent. I watched in great mystery as the people around me had no issues finding a healthy partner and creating happy relationships. "Something must be deeply wrong with me" became my mantra, and I was determined to make myself as perfect as possible in an attempt to fix the issue (the issue being me, of course). If only I am skinny enough, rich enough, pretty enough and so forth, no man will ever be able to hurt me again, I told myself. After nearly a decade of trying and consistently failing, I realized it didn't matter how thin, hot or successful I was, I was still getting into the same dysfunctional, disheartening dynamic over and over again.

I dated on and off for the last two years. No matter where I went, what I wore, how much I weighed or effort I put in, I always ended up in the same position. My childhood trauma of feeling invisible, unwanted and alone would resurface when the guy refused to choose me. I've done excess amounts of work on myself since I was 13 which is when I read my first self help book. I've gone to therapy longer than anyone I know. I literally do this work for a living and have three degrees in psychology. So the fact that I keep making the same mistakes makes me feel not only like a pathetic joke of a loser but an imposter even more so. How can I give people relationship advice yet I can't even get a call back? Why am I so great at helping others with their dating problems yet I'm crying over a dude with no job who smokes pot all day long and has mommy issues with mediocre dick? The math aint mathin, sis...........

When I made the decision to change my number and deactivate my account it was rough. Difficult because I would be cutting contact with people that deep down, I still really wanted to speak with but I knew didn't deserve access to me. My heart hurt, like literally, I felt I was going to have a heart attack from the aching. Every morning I would wake up and do a cord cutting meditation until I no longer cried while doing them. I felt proud of myself for making such a bold move but I also felt my heartbreak was too heavy for me to carry. I felt immense grief even though I knew all I was losing was an illusion. A dream of being picked by someone who would never want me back. A dream of receiving love where there was none. Sometimes the hardest things to lose are the things we never even had in the first place.

For example: I was briefly going out with this dude in Barcelona who I thought would be significant but turned out to only be a significant waste of time. He left me devastated and yet I kept his contact saved. He completely ghosted me but anytime I'd post a story he would watch. "I must still be important to him" I somehow convinced myself. And so I kept his number saved in hopes that one day, I'd post something enticing enough for him to realize what a fuckup he's been and apologize for wronging me. In my imagination he would have an epiphany of his mistakes, recognize my worth and decide that I'm good enough to change for. He would come crawling back, repenting for his sins as a better man and we'd drift away into the sunset and live happily ever after. As life would have it, Joey will probably remain the same POS that he is for the rest of his life (no offense) because most people don't change and you need to take them at face value. Why would he like my post if he's not interested? And worse, why can't I find the willpower to delete this loser from my phone? Why do I still care? I don't even like him anymore yet I am too afraid to block him. I couldn't make sense of his behavior or mine. I couldn't come to terms with the apology not coming...

The moment I decided to take a break from IG was also the moment I decided to take those 5+ hours a day and put them to good use. I was committed to breaking the cycle that kept me from living a truly abundant and rewarding life. I devoted my time to ending the loop of allowing myself to be deprecated by men (or at least trying my hardest). After journaling I realized the part of me that wanted to keep Joey around (even energetically) is the part that craves feeling desired. Although he ghosted me, he'd still visit my profile so I felt "seen" or at least crucial enough for him to notice me, which made my wounded inner child feel validated. I felt this burning desire to keep him on WhatsApp so he could view my statuses and not forget me. My ego wanted to remind him how "good" I was doing without him. Five weeks ago I blocked then deleted Joey's number so we can never talk again. Good riddance.

Maybe it sounds like a small task but to me it was a major victory. I know I'm not alone in this; many people, especially in their twenties (whether they admit it or not) rely on others for their sense of self. They build their identity off of likes, views and messages. Most people can not sit alone with themselves. They can not be in silence with their thoughts. They compulsively seek stimulation and the next hit of dopamine. It is no judgement, for we are only human. It is normal and natural to want a rush of neurotransmitters to affirm we are doing something right. But although we can logically understand the short term damage of doom scrolling; i.e. missing out on real life, social isolation, comparison, mental health disorders like anxiety, eating disorders, depression, etc. disconnection from the outside world (and a whole lot more) the long term effects are yet to be acknowledged since the onset of social media hasn't been all that long (especially with Instagram and Tiktok).

When I am off social (like right now) I don't long for it. I don't feel a sense of FOMO because I know I'm not missing out on anything. The issue lye's when I redownload the app, I find myself getting lost in strangers lives (even though, in all honesty, I could give two fucks about what other people are doing). I find the reels get me more than most people I know. It's easy to get swept away in reading comments, wanting to post and let the world know how "fun" my life is. It's easy to become obsessed with the serotonin that likes, dm's and comments from strangers supply. But I love being inaccessible. I love conserving my energy for the people that matter. It is easy to get attention online, but I know that attention is empty and fleeting. Instead of putting my effort into meaningless messages from horny dudes on my inbox, I'd rather pour it into myself and the things that are actually important. I welcome you to give it a try; I invite you to take an hour, a day, a week, a month or a year, detaching from your phone and reconnecting with yourself and the beauty around you. If you're up for the challenge, I'd love to hear how it goes for you. What did you discover along the way? 🤍