ditching my digi-sona
digital capital, isolation, and freedom
Over the years, I’ve had many battles with social media. I’ve deleted apps, set time limits, and tried to micromanage my screen time. It’s strange that we all acknowledge how bad it is for us, but continue the behavior. One thing is for certain: social media is poison. It has done profound damage to how we understand relationships, how we feel things, and how we talk to ourselves. So why do I do it? Why do any of us do it?
It’s not as simple as FOMO. I’ve never liked keeping tabs on people (my following shrank considerably after I finished high school). For me, the answer lies somewhere between boredom, false security, and a little bit of masochism.
Social media has made our attention a reward and the garnering of attention a transaction. By following someone, you are given access to their life through stories and posts. People want to follow beautiful, glamorous people because they want to emulate them, leading them to seek this type of digital proximity. Their power comes directly from the desire others have of liking them/wanting to be them.
Mimicking someone we think is cool isn’t wrong. I would say that it’s just a part of growing up, like me adopting parts of my mom’s style. What is identity, if not a little bit of everything you like? Only social media has exacerbated the mimicry, making us feel like we are entitled to everything we see. People find every detail of an outfit they like and shop dupes of it or scream “gatekeeper” if they are denied their wishes. The amount of jealousy and greed that starts to grow in the comment section of a girl showing off her jewelry is actually frightening.
It’s unavoidable because algorithms personalize our feeds, showing posts that will interest us and, hopefully, prompt us to engage. You’re happily trapped because you’re surrounded by things you like and people you aspire to be.
However, if you strip social media to its core, all that’s left is the accumulation and the flaunting of capital. The capital we see online, like clothes or books or even interesting thoughts (#intellectualproperty), acquire new meanings in digital spaces. For example, a Balenciaga city bag is no longer just a bag. Not only does it signal your understanding of fashion and what’s trending right now, it also signifies your coolness, your proximity to the “it-girl” identity.
Everyone’s online persona is just another accumulation of capital—digital capital. It’s how well your Instagram looks to the first-time viewer. It’s whether your reference to a meme lands. It’s how well you fit into a constructed identity. And all of this for what? We place too much emphasis on our online selves. The cycle of comparison, resentment, and bragging that churns from external validation can only last so long. With fleeting attention in the place of true acceptance, who needs real friends?
It’s hard to think of your online self and your offline self separately. Many people who know each other through social media only know the curated versions of each other. Employers comb through online footprints for liabilities. Time flies by without any indication. I know there is a difference between the online and the offline solely because I could never be the sanitized version of myself I try to convince everyone is “me.” We all optimistically buy into the idea that social media is for self-expression, though it has shown us time and time again that all it cares about is perfection.
My biggest problem with social media has always been feeling trapped by it. So much of it is meaningless, yet we give hours and hours away to the endless scroll. The passive dependency that social media demands is exhausting.
This summer I was sick of everything. So I chose carefully. I wrote, read, wept. I went on walks, sometimes in the morning before the sun could catch me, sometimes in the evening when the world cooled down. I watched longer content, like movies and video essays. It’s nothing life-changing because, in the end, I just replaced one form of content with another. But I wasn’t doing it passively. The biggest change has been putting intention behind my actions.
I do end up reaching for my phone less. I am ok with being a bit more bored. I don’t want to live perfectly, passively. Real life is messy.
this is beautiful rach - i think true detachment from self-perception on social media also proves that you have the emotional and social stability to feel comfortable in yourself. i don’t think u can be insecure within yourself and not rely on curating a social media page, which is why so many people can’t log off.