I’ve Said Some Weird sh*t on the Internet

Social media f*cked with my creativity. How to spot the trap and get out. 

In October 2024, I took a year off social media. I counted the cost it had on my life and creativity over the last sixteen years, and I couldn’t stay.

With hindsight, I saw how I was using creative energy to produce content for attention instead of dedicating myself to work that nourished my Soul and served a community. I saw how my views and voice had become radicalized, how comparison was eating away at the creative confidence I’d worked so hard to build. I saw how I’d become disconnected from reality, saying things online I’d never say in real life.

I saw how I’d gotten caught up in conversations and situations I had no vested interest in, following other people’s work, relationships and community at the expense of investing in my own. I saw how tied up in likes and validation my self-worth had become and most importantly, I saw how my close relationships, goals and bank account suffered as I invested in a virtual life at the expense of developing my real one.

Social media is great for some things. It centers the stories of marginalized people, it’s helped me realise my gifts, practice using my voice and given me an opportunity to express rejected and hidden aspects of myself. Yet, there’s a darkness that needs to be brought to light. 

Early 2024, I found myself experiencing a profound sense of dislocation. Rather than returning to myself, I kept looking at social media. Like a pinball, I bounced between other peoples’ stories, ideas and worldviews, looking for answers and seeking relief. Caught in the illusion of inadequacy (and the belief that my problems could be solved if I just had more information), I sought out more and more content, feeling increasingly deflated every time I reached yet another dead end.

At the same time, I felt stuck in a loop of comparison that undermined my ability to create real work. I was contracted in shame instead of breaking through to self-expression. I spent most of my time creating short form content while my most fulfilling work (that requires me to go deep) sat, atrophying. 

What had begun as a genuine desire to reflect and report what I was learning, slowly became a wild goose chase. Attention became my North Star, and “going viral” my destination. I poured myself out for an audience, focused more on maintaining the image of someone “living her life” than actually being in the experience of it. What started as a desire for connection and self-expression, eventually became full-blown escapism. As the tension in my real life grew I dove further and further into insta likes and facebook comments, so caught up sharing revelations, I wasn’t using them to make my life better. I went from, I can’t wait to share this incredible experience, to, what experience can I create next so I have something incredible to share?

During this period, the time and energy I put into creating and posting content was completely disproportionate to the value I got out, but instead of trying a different approach, I upped the dose. At one point, my dopamine-addicted brain made a link between provocative, polarising content and more people engaging with my work. I got weirder, wilder and louder, using my limited time, attention and resources to build a character in the virtual world, often at the cost of cultivating it in my own life. Like any addiction, I was so distracted by how good it felt, I didn’t realise what it was costing me. 

Looking back over some of my old posts, I feel sick. People like you were looking to me for a place of refuge, guidance and clarity and rather than enlightening and inspiring you with ideas, I was (unconsciously, but still) using my creative energy to keep you hooked and myself high. I’m so sorry if you felt the impacts of this. I am sorry if I was abrasive, belittling or dismissive. I’m so sorry if I lead you somewhere you didn’t want to go. 

“Industries succeed when they can hijack our cravings. Fast food, social media and porn are the fastest hits in town. The most likely to get you hooked… to make you feel dissatisfied with real food, people, sensuality and sex...” - (Un)stuck, Dr. Sophie Mort

So, what changed?

As I sifted through the wreckage of unfinished projects, weird posts, virtual debates and wilting relationships (wondering why I felt off course and out of alignment), I realised I’d been caught in the crosshairs of social media’s data extraction model.

In a classic case of misdirection, companies like Meta load you up on dopamine so you don’t notice information about your likes, dislikes, emotions and behavior is being collected and used to feed you increasingly addictive content, making it even harder to put your phone down.

The more I zoomed out, the more complicated I realised this web of deception has become. Not only are we, as creators, now using precious internal resources to create content that attracts and keeps others attention for free, but some of us are also then paying Meta to advertise our products and services, becoming one of the advertisers who benefit from the sketchily gathered data.

I wonder if, like when I was entrapping people in my own addiction, social media companies are also caught, searching for something that disappears as they get closer to it. 

“We curate our lives around this perceived sense of perfection because we get rewarded in these short-term signals: hearts, likes, thumbs up. We conflate that with value and truth. What it really is, is fake, brittle popularity that’s short term and leaves you even more vacant and empty than before you did it. It forces you into this vicious cycle, where you’re like, ‘What’s the next thing I need to do now?’ because I want it back.” Chamath Palihapitiya

Ideally, the virtual world serves the real one — an honest story adds value to the subject and the audience, but what happens when the content mill is so ravenous, you start living to fuel it? When you’re so hooked on shallow attention, you make decisions about your actual life based not on what lights you up, but what you think will keep an audience engaged?

In the same way just seeing your phone on the table next to you can take your focus away from the task at hand, I’m concerned a readily available supply of dopamine can lure us away from creating a life that feels like home. 

As I see the hype around getting married, having children and other insta-worthy milestones online, I wonder, are we rushing the big moments, caught up in the quest for validation and bypassing the foundational work of building lives and relationships that truly matter? 

Quality creativity is as essential to the health of our species as healthy food, clean air and fresh water. We need it to move through our lives and it’s one of our greatest hopes for solving humanity's biggest challenges. If women especially are hypnotized by social media’s promise of ego gratification, at the cost of our Soul work, we run the risk of losing our ability to discern, see, heal and call forth from the unseen. 

Posting constantly messed with my natural creative flow and eroded my ability to create with sensitivity, depth and nuance. It also clouded my ability to perceive the real value in my life, experiences and self. The more time I spent online, the more my natural joie de verve was corrupted by the compulsion to collapse genuinely meaningful moments into two-dimensional snapshots I traded for attention from strangers like virtual playing cards. 

Taking a million photos also felt like a futile attempt to hold onto something that wasn’t meant to be held, like trying to catch a cloud. (Not to mention how much energy it takes to store all that data.) 

When you’re creating something lasting in the real world, dopamine is released slowly and steadily. As frustrating as it can be, it’s forced me to cultivate patience and equanimity and made me more compassionate and less reactive. Learning to control the instant gratification impulse means I’m more likely to create what I truly value and less likely to be lured into wasting my energy on things I don’t care about. And, although I’ll still make mistakes, building slowly and consistently also gives me plenty of opportunities to make sure my intention and execution are as aligned as they can be. 

Calling for a mass boycott of social media feels like walking into a bar to rally attendance for an AA meeting, so instead I’ll ask… 

If “go viral” is on your goals list, for the love of God, take it off. What’s the deeper calling? Trade reels and stories for essay collections and anthologies. Go deep with your most cherished ideas, let them nourish you and serve your community. You’ll build something you can relax into when you serve your heart rather than a temporary spike in brain chemicals. 

Cast a vision. You’ll be less tempted by the quick hit when you can feel the juice of the long-term goal. 

Trust you’re enough as you are. Humans are still pretty new in the grand scheme of things, and the internet is a lot for our brain. We evolved to know and locate ourselves within the context of a few hundred people, not two billion. It makes sense we’re projecting virtual personas to try and please (or piss off) as many people as we can, but it’s not sustainable. Trying to live up to a virtual avatar you’re creating is exhausting. It also makes it really jarring when you try and connect with people in real life. 

Build a community rather than an audience. Vulnerability is courageous, but sharing your thoughts and feelings with a virtual audience isn’t going to meet your need for connection and followers aren’t going to be there when you need a couch to crash on or lose someone you love, a community (hopefully) will.

“We are more profitable to a corporation if we’re staring at a screen than if we’re living our life in a rich way.” Justin Rosenstein

Play a board game with your housemates tonight, instead of scrolling. Prioritize in-person connection and let social media be a tool you use to bring you closer to yourself and other people in real life.

Watch The AntiSocial Network and The Social Dilemma. 

Check the Source. What’s making you feel good, at what cost? If it’s attention, who’s it from? What’s it for? What, if anything, are you missing while you’re getting it? 

Ask, if I’m not profiting from this, who is?

Invest in things and people you have a future with. Attention is an aspect of love, but it’s not enough to sustain you. Get around other artists and get real encouragement for your work. Shallow attention leaves you hollow and grasping, genuine feedback from the right people builds your strength.

Take control of your quest for information. Let curiosity travel from the inside out, instead of letting the “explore” or “recommended” page dictate what you invest in. 

Run what you’re consuming and creating through your own values and critical thinking. Does this match what you’ve experienced? If you were in a room with all your followers, would you still say what you’re saying online? If the people following you online were following you around in real life, would you be happy with where you’re leading them? 

Craft your real work. Beyond the “sugar high” of a new post, whose life is improved by what you share (even if only your own)? 

Check your channel. Are you being provocative because it's what you want, or are you hooked on the (positive or negative) reaction you get from others? Is this what you came here to deliver? Is this the legacy you want to leave for future generations? 

I choose not to pay for advertising on social media. When the truth about how addictive a product is, is largely undisclosed, you’re not operating in a fair marketplace. If you’re inadvertently funding social media companies with your advertising dollars, are you okay investing in an industry that profits from escapism and self-avoidance? 

“If, in our modern societies, the hands of the ego must be sundered in order to regain our wild office, our feminine senses, then go they must in order to take us away from all seductions of meaningless things within our reach, whatever it is that we can hold on to in order not to grow.” Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Unlike extricating myself from the claws of sex and love addiction, detoxing from socials feels like a natural process (and also like leaving a party and no-one noticing). 

In my year offline, I felt more connected in my local community and like I was genuinely having a positive impact in people’s lives. I finished, and published, the memoir I’d been working on for almost a decade. I got a job and paid down travel debt. I took less photos and stopped trying to fix myself (I haven’t been on a retreat or bought a personal development course since 2024). 

After so long trying to go viral, I’m so glad I haven’t. 

Being unbothered about capturing special moments means the sacredness of life is returning. I’m learning the difference between attention and honour. As much as I enjoy sharing, my life isn’t fodder for consumption. I want to be fully present in my experiences, rather than thinking about how other people will perceive them. 

My focus is long-form content, like this post (which has taken me almost two years to write).

My daily routine: going to the same café’s to order the same decaf almond latte and work, isn’t “gram-worthy” but it keeps me healthy, balanced and sane. It's the foundation on which I build a life I care about. 

I still catch myself scrolling Depop, and opening and closing apps in quick succession, the echoes of an old routine, but I feel a lot better about it than I did. 

If I could say anything to the version of me addicted to socials, I'd say... 

The word virtual means, almost a particular thing or quality; not involving people physically going somewhere. Life online seems shiny, exciting and dramatic, but it’s not as rewarding as real life. It’s helpful for exploring aspects of your Self, but don’t let it become your center.

You don’t need to keep up with what everyone else is doing. This season isn’t about doing more, it’s about doing what matters, in a way that feels good. The roller coaster of living life for the content is fucking with your ability to build anything sustainable. 

I know, there's a lot of fear about what comes next and it’s tempting to look at what other people are making, but focus on your heart, your message and the legacy you want to leave. You have an opportunity to go deep with what you really value, craft messages and share stories that change people's life and perception. Don’t waste it. What can you accomplish when you’re balanced, stable and consistent? 

Invest in projects and people that give back. The stuff that’s truly valuable, real connection, has nothing to do with how many people are in your DM’s. 

Even though it’s vulnerable to admit you want to create something big and it feels audacious to say your work is worth more than the time, effort, energy and devotion it takes to write a caption, do it anyway. Be willing to forgo the instant gratification of the dopamine high for the long term satisfaction of the real dream. 

You can do this. 

Here’s to work, conversations, relationships and lives that are good, pure, honest and yours.

All my love,

Jae

I’d like to acknowledge Meg, Maggie and Marya, three mentors who were instrumental in helping me navigate this season.