Warning: Ditching Social Media May Cause Spontaneous Joy and Unexpected Writing Compulsions

I deleted Facebook in 2016. Back then, removing yourself meant untagging photos, deleting every public post, private message, and un-liking everything you had ever 👍🏼 Exhausting, right? While others reveled in the nostalgia of "On This Day," I cringed at my early 20s self. (Remember when you wrote publicly on people's walls because private messaging wasn't a thing yet?)

My decision to leave Facebook stemmed from a major event: my mother's passing. It was the first significant loss I had faced in my 30 years on this planet, and as one would expect, it changed me. The footloose and fancy-free version of myself became unfamiliar. Parts of my personality, once overshadowed by extroversion and a life with no "obvious" trauma, took center stage.

I started noticing changes in how I interacted with others, both online and in person. I craved more depth, and my expectations of myself and others shifted. Social media began to feel like a barrier to authentic relationships. People expected me to have read or seen something they posted for context in a discussion we were now having in person. Then, on the flip side, they were interacting with me based on a curated version of myself I had previously put forward. People change, it all made me feel incredibly inauthentic, like a bad friend, and constantly judged for not meeting their expectations. (Turns out a lot of these feelings were actually undiagnosed ADHD & Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, but that, dear reader, is a story for another day!)

So for a whole year, one day at a time, I used "On This Day" to erase my digital history. (Fortunately these days you can just delete everything with one click 🫠)

To say deleting Facebook was incredibly freeing and liberating would be an understatement – it was like living in the 90s before phones had cameras. It was like telling your parents what time you'd be home and going on an adventure for the day. You couldn't be reached, and when you came home on time, both parties had trust and mutual respect. It was a vibe.

Late in 2023, I was speaking with a friend who had recently deleted her Instagram. I mentioned that I'd been thinking about it too but was concerned about how it might professionally impact my travel business. She suggested I sit with those thoughts, make my usual lists, and then move forward with whatever logically panned out.

I didn't do that.

Impulsively, I jumped online, downloaded my history (all those travel photos and memories!), and hit delete. No exaggeration... it felt REALLY good. For me, it was like an electric blanket on a cold day, with a glass of red wine and Schitt's Creek on the TV. If I could glow like a pregnant woman, I'd probably have been glowing in that moment. I knew then that I didn't have to worry about my travel business.

With Instagram now gone, I refocused my attention on intentional friendships – the kind with effort, understanding, grace, and real-world connection. I felt whole again listening to my friend tell me about her trip to Thailand, seeing her light up as she relived those memories. I found joy in the excitement of a friend telling me about a drag show or those heart-stopping final few seconds of a close basketball game.

In addition to this shared energy I had with people once again, there was something else I felt I had to do with my time, and that was write. I felt compelled to write.

Now, you may be thinking, "Ros, you're on LinkedIn, which is social media and you're sharing again..." and you are right. It's very reminiscent of the 30-year-old Ros who didn't want to see what 20-year-old Ros was eating on March 16, 2005 at 12:32 PM. I identify LinkedIn with growth, both personal and professional. A space to discuss respectfully things that matter, that make a difference, and that keep us moving forward.

The desire to write started with an interest to share my travel experiences in a way that would serve as a free platform for people who wanted some guidance but didn't want to commit to professional service fees. Now though, in addition to that, I want to address personal topics too, things like my recent ADHD diagnosis and my experiences with ayahuasca and psilocybin.

I am no wordsmith... and I can't promise that you will resonate with everything I choose to write about, but I can promise that it will always come from a place of experience and vulnerability, speckled with some self-deprecating humor. And who knows, maybe my experiences will do that cliché thing where they help another person.

Peace, Joy & California Love,

Ros