Let me go ahead and rip-off the proverbial band aid: I deleted TikTok.
I didn’t do this for applause or attention. I wish I could say it was because I’m choosing to take a stand against the institution of social media as a whole, or at the very least because of the app’s questionable business ethics, but I would be lying. Truthfully, I deleted TikTok in an effort to spend less time doom-scrolling on my phone, and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the things I’ve come to realize.
One thing I’ve come to learn about myself as my brain develops is that I don’t possess the requisite amount of self-control to simply exit out of a social media app when I’ve been on it for too long. I could spend hours mindlessly scrolling through sped-up 30-second videos all circulated through an algorithim — curated to my specific viewing tastes. I could always find ways to excuse my media consumption, justifying my TikTok screen time as a source of entertainment or an outlet for creativity. However, I’d never once made a recipe I’d bookmarked or learned a viral dance. My endless browsing habits had more to do with putting-off inevitable day-to-day tasks. It’s much easier to catch up on the latest influencer drama than it is to start writing a paper or doing your laundry. I winced at the end of every week when my average daily screen time exceeded an acceptable amount of social media scrolling. I knew that something had to change if I was going to lock in for my senior year of college. So one day in August, I went cold-turkey and deleted TikTok for good.
I feel a weird sense of satisfaction in finally going through with something I always knew would be good for me. There’s been a plethora of reporting this year about the adverse effects of social media use in teens and young adults, and to think that I would somehow be exempt was naive.
One of the most noticeable consequences of my newfound TikTok sobriety is that I feel far less pressure to achieve a certain kind of lifestyle promoted by the young women made viral by the algorithm. Nobody claims immunity from the influence of social media aesthetics. Never mind the fact that I’ve never wanted to be a morning pilates, corporate 9-5 girly in the first place. It’s hard to convince your brain that it doesn’t actually want the things the algorithm is shoving down your throat. This is no shade to the women who do wake up at five a.m. every morning to do their twenty-step skin care routines or work to cultivate a social media presence that services their own lifestyle. I respect the grind. Comparison, however, is inescapable, and need not take away the joy in figuring out the life that works for you.
You can’t meal-prep your way into a better life. A heatless curl won’t make you any more equipped to handle the day than someone rocking four-day greasy hair. Ultimately, performances of self-optimization are just that — performances. It’s a lesson I wish I had learned a lot earlier. It surely would have cut my screen time in half.
My deleting TikTok has enabled me to spend more time figuring out what exactly fulfills me. I feel more present in my life. That’s not to say I don’t occasionally find myself itching to escape into the curated world of a TikTok. I still browse on Instagram, LinkedIn, and even Goodreads. Deleting TikTok though, however permanent a decision this will be, has been a step in the right direction for me.
