Social Media: Connection Through Disconnection

You could say that my relationship with social media falls well outside the standard deviation of most people in my age group. As an elder millennial, I easily slip into groups of Gen Xers and sometimes feel like younger millennials are speaking a different language. While I may tend to identify more with my mid-40s and older crowd, no matter which edge of the generational divide you head toward, I tend to stand out in this particular way: I gave up social media cold turkey six years ago.*

*This statement deserves an asterisk more elevated than a footnote: I do have professional social media accounts that I neglect and practically beg others to manage because the Google tells me this is good for my SEO.

Stepping away from social media has changed almost all of my relationships. There are people I have never interacted with since walking away and I have found deeper and more meaningful connections with those who are still in my life. I also appreciate not knowing so many details about other people's lives, and appreciate it even more when friends and family make it a point to share their lives with me.

According to Pew Research Center data from November 2024, 78% of American adults between ages 30–49 have a Facebook account, 66% are on Instagram, and 40% use TikTok. My peers be online! Older Americans tend to stick with Facebook and YouTube, while younger users favor YouTube and Instagram. I was surprised TikTok didn’t rank higher, but if you look at its recent history—especially the controversies in late 2024 and early 2025—you can see why user trends might have shifted. Still, given how new TikTok is compared to legacy platforms, its rapid rise is significant.

And yet, not all platforms or users are created equal. While nearly every platform now capitalizes on user data through ads, curated content, and algorithms, some encourage more personalized engagement than others. Consider Facebook versus Reddit. On Facebook, your identity is central: you're connecting with friends, family, your third-grade best friend’s neighbor’s grandma, sharing location data, values, beliefs, politics—and, of course, your relationship status. Reddit, on the other hand? Random usernames, niche content, and the freewheeling ability to roll into a sub and roll right out. Both require intention to engage (we see you lurking, Voyeurs), but it’s certainly easier to remain anonymous to your peers on one than the other.

User engagement also varies wildly. Plenty of folks scroll passively without interacting. Some use social media to share personal updates or emotions. Others like to engage in “the discourse”—commenting on posts or getting into public arguments.

There’s been plenty published about how social media impacts mental health: the arguments that escalate into toxicity or even violence, the internalization of self-worth through likes and shares, and the effects of content we’re exposed to—whether intentionally or algorithmically. And yet, there are upsides: connection to community, rapid news-sharing, and access for marginalized groups are all real benefits. But even those upsides come with a shadow side. When someone’s feed becomes an echo chamber of their beliefs, it’s easy to see the world as one-sided. Respectful discourse helps us grow and understand other perspectives—even when we disagree.

Unfortunately, the distance a keyboard provides can make it easier to say things we wouldn’t say face to face. The same tools that connect us can also amplify misinformation and propaganda that starts to divide us. And when algorithms start pushing negative content, the result can be an endless doom-scroll feedback loop. For vulnerable folks, social media can offer solidarity and safety—but true anonymity doesn’t exist, especially when it comes to how much data these platforms collect.

Some of those reasons led me to walk away. Like many of my peers, I was active on Facebook and Instagram for years. Most of my use was endless scrolling, occasionally overthinking how a ‘like’ might be interpreted, and, rarer, sharing curated glimpses of my life. As political discourse became more polarized, I watched people I love post hateful messages, misinformation, and stop truly listening to one another. 

My partner was the first of us to go dark on his socials. As I contemplated a similar change, a variety of emotions overwhelmed me. It felt scary (what if I missed something important?), irresponsible (wasn’t I supposed to be trying to bridge the divide?), and liberating (what would I do with all that reclaimed time and mental space?). Then one night, I just did it.

When others take social media breaks, they often describe a withdrawal period. The dopamine hit from user interaction and impacts of ever shortening attention spans make it hard for many to walk away or sit in silence. I knew I’d made the right choice for myself when that feeling of withdrawal never came. I didn’t miss it—ever. I realized I only really engaged with people I also interacted with in other parts of my life. I figured if someone missed me, or I missed them, we’d reach out. If we didn’t, maybe the connection wasn’t that strong—and that’s okay. I only have so much mental and emotional space, and when I invest in relationships, I want to do it well. My capacity is limited.

I know I am missing beautiful stories and genuine moments from other people’s lives. I know friends and family are living through big events I don’t see—and they’re missing mine. I used to call my social feed “the noise.” Now that it’s quiet I’ve gained deeper connections with the people who are most important to me, and our time together and conversations are so much more intentional. Importantly, I’ve also gotten more comfortable being quiet with myself, paying attention to my own internal world.

I still find ways to fill my mental space—only now they, too, feel more intentional. I read the news, listen to interest-based podcasts, and work on projects that matter to me. I also still play games on my phone while watching TV with my partner and occasionally scroll through random articles and blog posts based on what the internet thinks I want (I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole of reading random blogs by thru-hikers of epic trails like the Appalachian and Pacific Crest).

Clearly, my relationship with social media was already tenuous before I stepped away, which probably made it easier to continue to get distance. As I mentioned, I’ve since created a few work accounts, but they’re easy to compartmentalize. I don’t use them for personal relationship-building. When viewed as a tool, it allows me to keep my emotional distance and still appreciate the utility it provides.

This isn’t a judgment on those who stay engaged. Ultimately, only you can decide what kind of relationship you want with social media. What works for me won’t work for everyone. But if you’re considering a change in how you engage, I hope it’s helpful to know that while you might be in the minority, you’re certainly not alone.

Here are a few signs that your social media use might be negatively impacting you:

• Regular feelings of judgment or jealousy toward others, especially from their posts

• Comparing yourself to others based on assumptions drawn from their feeds

• Doom scrolling or endlessly watching content from people you barely know

• Feeling like there’s no time to connect with yourself or others IRL, yet still finding time to scroll

• Closing the app, then reopening it moments later

• Feelings of sadness, dread, or hopelessness after using social media

If any of this feels familiar, try experimenting with a few small shifts to increase your awareness:

• Reflective journaling: Spend 5 minutes journaling your emotions, thoughts, and bodily sensations. Then spend 10 minutes using social media as usual. Journal again afterward. What do you notice about your before-and-after entries?

• Time-bound pause: Pick a 30–60 minute window each day to take a break from all social media. At the end, reflect briefly on how you felt during that time.

• Intentional connection: For two weeks, make one meaningful connection a day outside of social media—a call, a text, a quick chat with a coworker, a planned meet-up. These moments, big or small, help rewire your attention toward real-life connection.

  
  

If your well-being is being affected—whether by social media, a relationship, or your own inner experiences—reach out for support. Our therapists at Tendril would be honored to support you through whatever part of your journey you’re navigating. Even if it’s not on the Pacific Crest Trail.