Social Media Was Addictive, but I Worked Toward Reclaiming My Focus, and More Importantly, My Peace by Deactivating Twitter

When I first joined Twitter back in the summer of 2009,  it quickly became my absolute favorite social media platform. I connected with people from all over the world who shared my interests in writing, crafting, Weight Watchers, plus-size fashion, and so much more. We became friends. It was like having a global community of like-minded friends, and I met many of them in person over the years as we traveled to conferences around the country.

Over the years, I forged connections with like-minded individuals from across the globe who shared my passions for writing, crafting, Weight Watchers, plus-size fashion, and size equality, among other things. It was a platform where I found friends, followed my favorite politicians, and even found love with someone I dated for a while. Witnessing beautiful stories unfold, such as my friend from the UK finding love in the US and celebrating their marriage, filled me with joy. Twitter became a place where I found encouragement and support on my personal journey, long before I had an abundance of friends in real life.

Despite my deep affection for Twitter, I contemplated deactivating my account multiple times in the past decade. The familiar interactions and positive experiences I once cherished became increasingly rare.

To counter the fear-inducing media accounts that bombarded me with daily updates on murders, COVID cases, and other distressing events in New Orleans, I made the conscious decision to unfollow many accounts. I also distanced myself from individuals and organizations that contributed to the prevailing culture of complaints that seem to dominate Twitter these days.

In the early days of the Covid lockdown, I curated my feed, following Christian hashtags and individuals I believed would provide uplifting content. While some of them do, most of what I encounter on Twitter now elicits anger, fear, and sadness, which is neither beneficial nor necessary for me.

Earlier this year, I stumbled upon an arrogant and repugnant tweet from a defunct megachurch pastor who appeared to have started a new congregation. His attack on Christians who grapple with understanding God's love amid their painful experiences within the church ignited a fire of anger within me. The mere thought of it still stirs up my emotions.

Does that person have a right to his opinion? Sure. Will God offer him grace that he seems hellbent on not offering to others? Yup. Seems like something God would do, doesn’t it? He’s certainly done that for me. Do I want to read about it on social media and spew my opposing views into the technological abyss while carrying righteous anger that leaves me wanting to scold believers who are making hell look more appealing than the church? Nope. Absolutely not.

So, I deleted Twitter earlier this year. Does this mean I’ll never use it again? Who knows? What I know is that I want to hold tight to the memories I made while letting go of my propensity to scroll through soul-sucking tweets where the good no longer outweighs the bad, at least for me.

It took some time for me to stop searching for Twitter on my phone, but it’s been a positive experience overall. I don’t want to be addicted to scrolling, and removing the app from my phone was a positive step in reclaiming my attention and focusing it on things that are true, noble, and good.