There will be a day … when I delete my Facebook account and I bid an ardent farewell to Instagram, and I will feel an exhalation of liberation that buoys my spirit and centers me into a life meant to be experienced and embodied by me, and by me alone.
I will realize that the main reason I’ve held onto these accounts long past their expiration date is because I vibrantly adore writing and I’m eager to share my writing.
And this realization will propel me to commit to the craft, to realign with my creativity and to declare myself a writer. I will know that I do not need social media to be a writer. I will not need to sacrifice any part of myself, my morals and my beliefs, to stay on these vampiric platforms.
I will see parents looking at their phones while their little ones call for their attention. I will see this subtle and painful lack of parental presence (and that’s really all the little ones need -- a parent’s attentiveness) numerous times – at the park, in the mall’s playground, at the coffee shop – that I will vow that my content, my material will not be placed on an addictive, escapist platform that literally steals people from their precious lives.
I will daydream about one day having a beautiful magazine, an exquisite mailed newsletter with my writings tied with lace and string … that’s my dream. A moment to pause, to breathe, to receive the words in raw light and let the words receive the touch of the reader’s hand… but for now, I will reason, writing on a blog and sharing my writings on e-newsletter will do.
I will not miss social media.
I will wish I had left sooner, had never stepped a tech foot onto those platforms.
I will regret … well, regret is a strong word, but I will see that not having social media would have helped me … especially in my romantic relationships and when I plummeted into fantasy and made up stories about what it means that he likes that particular photo (that one where I am in a black dress and smiling from a white dreamy gazebo in the tropics).
Not having social media, I will wistfully think, would have spared me from…
contemplating other people’s thoughts,
carrying other people’s emotional wounds,
from the daggers disguised as comments,
seeing the ex-lover married and with kids (there are certain things one does not need to see, does not need to know… seeing the marriage photos will be one of them),
from the harmful righteousness of the cultish woke and the ill-advised politically motivated crusaders,
from “well-meaning” codependents who project their abandonment wounds onto where I am and why I didn’t tell them.
My twenties will be inundated with this hypervigilant nonsense, with this matrix non-reality that will parade around and impact my reality.
So in my thirties, I will choose differently, and will leave the toxic relationship of social media to deepen into a true relationship with myself.
I will relish the spaciousness, the honest and beautiful friendships that will flourish through in-person connects, emails, and meaningfully composed texts and voice-messages.
I will delight in the wonders that are a life – the sunlight streaming through trees, the capacity to see a flower and let the flower see me and not need to include a lens. There will be nothing to document. There will be everything to enjoy, embody, experience. I will wander through a canyon in Arizona and not bring my phone, not bring my camera, and this will upset the other trekkers, but I will feel the surprising joyful energy of the red rocks and it’s a presence I would have missed if concerned with getting the right snapshot.
I will be proud of myself.
I will depart social media after witnessing first-hand the blatant censorship and tech attack on accounts that promote holistic health, medical freedom, bodily autonomy, and question the masked mainstream narrative on the jab.
I will see this silencing of free speech, and the critical, life-saving sharing of medical information, so people can make an informed decision, so there’s true consent.
I will watch many people I use to know become the hate they say they are against, and question how much performative activism is for “likes” because they are striving to be good, to let others validate a goodness that is innate and not based on a medical status.
I will notice the self-censorship that controls my life, absorbed from seeing the cancellation culture, the online bullying that is normalized and even viciously praised, and will see how this has silenced me.
I will leave social media to finally follow myself.
I will untangle, and view all of it as a bizarre, twisted dream, and a dream though with grave real-life consequences, because energy is real, and the words written, the photos posted, the likes or the dislikes are all propelled by energy, and we are vibrational beings reading and receiving and sending energy, impacted and impacting.
There will be ripples and echoes for everything, and I will know this, I have known this, and I will do my best to be true to what I feel is aligned in that very moment. The rest I will empty over to the higher powers, to mercy, to a vision of a grander design that doesn’t judge me for what I have or have not posted on social media.
I will not be swayed to return when I start my business. I will trust in good-old-fashioned networking and there will be magical synchronicities. I will show up in my life, not online, and will find that the people who need me will find me, and I will find them. Quality.
I will like myself. I will subscribe to the pathways of joy, peace, true resonance. I will follow what lights me up, my convictions, my kindred spirits who either applaud my decision or are free also from the house of mirrors spectacle that is the social media train. My highlight will be honoring that whisper, reframing how I do work and how I creatively share and living a life that is true profile of me. I will not need a review. I will live free.
Please – like and subscribe to this way of embodied being!