As someone born in the 90s my formative years were shaped by the rise of social media. My Facebook still contains photos from when I was 14, and I recently dug out the early years of online blogging on live journal, where my 13-year old self seemed to pour out unfiltered poetry, love letters and weirdly specific tales about perverted teachers.
In more recent years it became a tool to grow the network that supported Collaborative Future, with many of the young people on our programmes discovering our work through instagram. And my continued capacity and desire to share openly and authentically about my work and my personal life through what I post has not only inspired people from afar but it has also connected me with so many of the people I consider as friends and collaborators now.
What’s more is social media offered me a route into discovering who I am. Both in terms of providing me with access to queer, trans and autistic experiences that resonated with my own, and also in connecting me with viewpoints and perspectives on global issues that are not covered in mainstream media.
Social media has been a life line for me at times. It has helped me stay connected to friends lives when I’ve moved to different cities, it has shaped my practices and views, it has helped me find recipes, events and loop earplugs, and very occasionally helped me to pay my bills.
But at the same time it is also firmly an addiction. There is a churn on every platform I’m on - getting sucked into friends instagram stories about the event they just attended, wondering what to post on linkedin to make the ethos of my work clear to potential clients, annoying myself with reading the comments people have made on my neighbours post in the facebook group, feeling the pressure to be writing consistently on my brand new (and now retired) substack. In addition I’ve conditioned myself to consume and share opinions at a pace which I don’t think is sustainable if I want to develop a deeper understanding of the world around me.
So I’m taking a year long break (at least) from every single social media platform (and dating app too btw so do make sure to offer me some old school match making!). And I’m going cold turkey from 1st Feb so I won’t be responding to messages on Linkedin, Instagram, Facebook or Substack after that. I’m so scared of taking this step that it makes me more certain than ever that it’s needed. I’ve got a reading list almost as long as my friend list on Facebook and I’m excited to see how dropping social media entirely will allow me to consume knowledge and ideas in a slower way that allows me to integrate it into my practice and work. I feel deeply connected to movements that I feel I can play an active part in, and while I'm worried about losing touch with online social justice movements I'm more confident than ever in my approach to organising for social change. I’m also so lucky to have a vibrant and thriving community around me in my personal life and work life - and I’m excited to see how those relationships deepen as I invite people to commit to being with me in real-time more often.
There are lots of people that I would love to continue to share my work with and vice versa so if you feel the same I’ve set up a ‘connect with me’ page where you can find my contact details, see where you might be able to cross paths with me at in person or online events this year, and sign up to a monthly newsletter from me (which I’m hoping will contain lots of juicy writing, fun workshops and photographs that I take with my new DSLR camera).