To Scroll or Not to Scroll?

A Bit of a Rant About Social Media

To Scroll or Not to Scroll?

A Bit of a Rant About Social Media

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Upcoming retreat! Join us for two days of writing, soaking, and creative reset. Your story matters.

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For the past few weeks, I've been wrestling with a particularly gnarly little demon. Its name? Social Media. (You've probably heard of it. Likes to eat your attention for breakfast.)

It's been about a decade since I packed up my virtual bags and walked off the digital stage. Back then, I was utterly done. Cooked. I had burned myself out from endless scrolling and mindless addiction. I felt out of control, no longer in charge of my own experience. My attention had been hijacked, and the platforms were winning. And I, being the rebellious creature I am, thought, "Not today, Satan." And off I went.

Once upon a time, I truly believed in social media. Like, really believed. I thought it would save the world. A place to connect with people and information like never before. A wild and beautiful digital village. But then it became a bloated, attention-hungry beast that sells our glances with promises of bras that fit (but don’t).

And yet.

It was my birthday last week, I peeked in. Just a little toe dip. And what I found made my heart ache in the sweetest way. There were so many beautiful messages. So many familiar faces, people I adore but haven't seen or spoken to in years. My extended community.

It made me wonder. Have I overdone it? Have I cut myself off too completely?

I tend to go to extremes. Anyone who's met me knows that. So when I left, it felt righteous. Revolutionary. A great big digital middle finger to zuck. But now I find myself missing things. Little likes and cheeky comments from my old San Francisco crew. Even London friends from eons back. These are people who matter to me. And Facebook, Instagram, they're the places I see them.

But every time I think about coming back, there's this little voice in the back of my head going, "Polly! No! Remember why you left!"

The whole thing's even more of a circus now. Endless ads. The weird AI content creeping in from every corner. And the advertising algorithm. Don't get me started. It knows me too well. That glitter lipstick will not be that glittery in real life! Don't do it!!

Here’s the harsh reality of it: I don't want to just come on social media when people die, check their profile to find out what happened, and cry. Read heartfelt eulogies and respond with a 😢 . I want to know what they're doing when they're alive! I want to know when friends are celebrating new babies, relationships, or adventures. I want to know when they're sick or struggling so I can reach out and offer a friendly hello.

In all honesty, I have things I want to share too!

These days, I'm hosting writing retreats, yes, often with hot springs involved. I’m helping people make real, beautiful art in a world that seems more artificial by the minute. I've become a writing doula, midwifing stories into the world with tenderness and care. And it's not just marketing. I genuinely want people to know what I'm up to, especially the people who've walked parts of this wild path with me.

So here I am, caught in the middle.

On one hand, I still believe that turning your attention away from social media to write poetry and make art is a radical act of rebellion. It's resistance in a world trying to program how we think and feel. On the other hand, connection is also a form of resistance. Community gives us strength, even when it's filtered through social media.

And while everyone else seems to be talking about leaving, fed up with the AI, the ads, the noise, here I am pondering a return. I don't know what that would look like. I haven't decided yet. But I'm thinking about it.

I'm thinking about you.

And that might just be the start.

x

Polly Superstar