Civilian, cultural producer, designer, and artist.
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A man once went to the woods and remained in solitary meditation for four days. He wandered alone till he heard a soft, low sweet voice, singing a song. He listened and watched. He saw a beautiful little flower, swaying gracefully back and forth. He knew the song came from the little flower. Around the flower the ground was swept clean. He listened until he had learned the song.
I stopped using and posting on Meta’s socials because I became addicted to their mechanics. Scrolling, liking, checking my likes, regularly posting stories, and constantly checking their views.
I attached my self-worth to my reach and engagement stats. It was a rewarding game—sometimes. But more often than not, disappointment is all I collected. Day after day. Week after week. This addiction to the feed was hurting me. I felt alone and misunderstood. Was I not worthy of attention?
Years went by before I learned there was nothing wrong with me. I closed all my accounts and told my closest friends about the change. Nobody was genuinely shocked. Most told me they wish they could do the same.
I jumped ship early enough before things got much worse. And while my relationship to social media hasn’t completely healed yet, I’m glad I parted ways with the person I had become.