Intro: The Age of Tracking Everything
I have really been into logging and reviewing movies on Letterboxd lately. There is something fun about watching my little grid of films grow and pretending to be a real critic. And Spotify Wrapped came out, which gave me another neat little summary of who I was this year (and called me old and unc, don’t think I’m gonna let that slide, Spotify). Anyway, all my top songs, artists, and minutes listened to are organized and easy to screenshot and share with my Instagram followers against their will!
But as cool as it is to see my life laid out like that, it also made me pause, and honestly, kinda laugh. I can track every movie I watch and every song I obsess over, but that doesn’t mean I actually understand what any of it says about me. It feels like I’m looking at the stats version of myself instead of the real human girl who exists outside of charts and year-end recaps. And honestly, I’m not convinced data me is all she’s cracked up to be.
Why We Love Tracking
There is a reason everyone is obsessed with tracking things. It gives us this tiny crumb of control in a world that feels a little chaotic most of the time. When we log a movie or hit a step goal or watch our reading progress bar inch forward, it feels like proof that we are doing something productive with our lives. Like we’re growing. Like we’re improving as people. Like we’re not just floating through college hoping for the best.
And honestly, it can be motivating. I get it! I drank the Kool-Aid, too! Sometimes, tracking helps us keep promises to ourselves. Drink more water, read more, take walks, that kind of thing. It scratches that part of our brain that was taught to love little gold stars and having your clip on green in elementary school. But somewhere along the way, I think tracking stopped being a tool and became a personality trait. Everything is measured and analyzed. Everything is turned into a statistic. And while that can be fun, it also makes it easy to forget that your life and documenting your life are not the same thing.
The Problem with Becoming Data
The weird thing about tracking everything is that it slowly turns you into a little project instead of a person. Once you start seeing your life in numbers, it becomes way too easy to judge yourself by them. You start to think about whether you’re doing enough instead of actually enjoying what you’re doing. It’s like your brain quietly shifts into performance mode, even though no one is keeping watch but you.
And the more you treat yourself like data, the more disconnected you start to feel from the actual experiences behind the numbers. At the beginning of this year, I caught myself caring more about my Goodreads profile and my reading stats and what people might think of my yearly count than about the actual joy I get from reading in the first place.
It also creates this pressure to constantly have something to show for your time. If you aren’t tracking it, did it even count? Yeah, I exercised, but I forgot to put my Fitbit on! Such a ridiculous mindset, but it sneaks up on you. Before you know it, you’re analyzing your hobbies instead of enjoying them. It gets overwhelming fast. For me, part of it might be an ADHD thing. When your brain is bouncing from one thought to the next, having numbers and charts to cling to can feel like the only way to keep track of yourself. Add hyperfixation to the mix, and suddenly tracking becomes an obsession. You end up spending more energy on the stats than the actual fun, which somehow feels productive but also a little ridiculous.
The Unquantifiable Stuff
Then there’s the stuff that can’t be tracked, measured, or turned into a progress bar. The books you start and never finish, but still think about weeks later. The random playlists that feel like home even though you can’t explain why. The movies you watch just because you want to, not because anyone will see them on your Letterboxd or IMDB. The late nights in your dorm that aren’t “aesthetic or pretty enough” to post on an Instagram story but somehow end up being your favorite memories. The thing you love purely for yourself, like a cheesy comfort show or a random hobby that makes no sense to anyone else.
These are the things that actually make life feel full. They’re messy, unpredictable, and sometimes completely irrational. And honestly, that’s the point. You can’t measure the way a song makes your chest tighten or how a night spent binge-watching that new reality TV show with friends in sweatpants feels like the best weekend ever. You can’t quantify the little spontaneous sparks of joy that sneak into your day.
The unquantifiable stuff reminds us that life isn’t about hitting a certain number or optimizing every second. It’s about enjoying the weird, random, beautiful moments that you can’t track. And every now and then, it feels good not to have to explain it or prove it to anyone, including yourself.
Learning to Just Like What You Like
The best part about all of this is realizing that you don’t need an app, a chart, or anyone else’s approval to enjoy the things you love. You can watch that terrible rom-com at 2 a.m. in your dorm without posting it anywhere. You can read that random novel no one else has heard of just because it makes you happy. You can listen to your guilty pleasure songs on repeat without worrying about Spotify Wrapped judging you.
It’s about giving yourself permission to exist outside of stats and streaks. To care about the things that make you feel good, not the things that make you look good on Instagram or your Goodreads profile. Your opinions are valid even if no one ever sees them. You don’t have to rate every movie, review every book, or explain why you love that obscure band. You don’t have to name three songs to wear that band shirt. Your taste doesn’t need validation. It’s enough that it exists and it matters to you.
So stop overthinking. Stop trying to fit your life into neat boxes and progress bars. Track your own happiness in ways that actually matter to you, whatever that looks like. Some of the best college memories aren’t posted (no seriously, think about whether your future boss needs to see you in that frat basement), rated, or quantified, and that’s exactly what makes them worth having.
Data Schmata
Okay, in all transparency, I am not going to delete my Letterboxd account; the people yearn to see my reviews on things, but it’s nice to remember that the joy I get from watching a movie or reading a book doesn’t depend on likes, followers, or my yearly stats. Your life doesn’t need to fit into a spreadsheet to be meaningful, and your opinions don’t need to be justified to anyone but yourself.
So go ahead. Do the things you love, for yourself, in all their messy, weird, unquantifiable glory. Because some of the best parts of college, and life, can’t be counted.