Do you ever wish you could quit social media?

I used to love social media when I first joined back in the day. Facebook was an excellent platform to keep in touch with my friends and family, especially when I moved from Sweden to Malaysia. Because let’s face it; now that we’re all grown up and have jobs and kids, and groceries to shop, houses to clean, and parents to visit, we don’t always have time to pick up the phone and call our friends and say “How you doin’?” (without the sexual connotation Joey Tribbiani adds to it).

Facebook was great for stuff like that. I could see pictures of my BFF’s son, or how my aunt decorated her house for Christmas, and roll my eyes at yet another cat video.

Same with Instagram. Actually seeing a picture of someone’s birthday present, new baby, or engagement rings was great. It felt like I was a part of their lives, even though I now live across the world from everyone back home.

Then something happened. Companies like Facebook and Instagram and Twitter decided that they have the right to decide what I see in my feed so instead of scrolling through Facebook posts telling the story of my friends’ lives, Facebook now decides what I see.

So when my brother-in-law’s house was almost flooded a couple of years back, I had no idea because he rarely posts something on Facebook (unless it’s extremely important) so the algorithm buried his post underneath stupid quizzes that steal my data and a crap load of fake news. (Actual fake news, not the kind that you-know-who in the White House is trying to sell to the world).

And then there’s the advertising. Every fifth picture on Instagram is an ad. That makes me scroll through so much crap I never asked to see. And don’t forget about the sponsored posts by accounts I’ve actually chosen to follow.

Last October, I started a bullet journal, something I really love, so I started following a lot of bullet journal accounts. I want inspiration on how to set up my weekly spreads or monthly logs or habit trackers and whatever else it is I want to have in my bullet journal.

What I don’t want from these accounts are gushing posts about how great such-and-such brush pens are. Yes, if the person paid for the damned pens themselves and likes them for real, then, by all means, tell me about them. But what I don’t want is posts paid for by the company that made the pens, because how can I trust that they are great for real, when I know someone threw money at the person to say they are?

I miss the good old days. The blurry pictures of my sister-in-law’s dinner, the ten almost identical pictures of a friend’s son, or the “I’m writing this from the bathroom” Facebooks updates from my weird co-worker.

At least I chose to see those things, unlike now when someone else decides for me.