When I Unfriended Everyone

Bryan Catherman | Utah.

Social media is porta-john. I've considered closing or canceling my profiles for some time. I typically feel more isolated after the scroll of death, and frankly, feeding the machine the diamond bits grind down society is exhausting. No longer is there anything social about it. It's as toxic as an improperly vented furnace, killing us in our sleep.

But rather than jump off the ride entirely, I decided to turn Facebook and Instagram into a personal experiment. (I would have included Twitter, but I stopped using that when it divorced me and became my X.) I went to work unfriending everyone. Almost everyone. I chopped 1,200 contacts down to 164. How mixed up am I that clicking the "unfriend" button felt like I was terminating genuine relationships that started and exist outside the internet? Has Meta rewired my brain that far?

I am determined to use the two apps--Facebook and Instagram--to strengthen and foster current real-life interactions. There was no reason to keep old high-school connections I have not heard from since we first connected on social media. Why remain attached to past co-workers I never see or talk with? If I didn't want to answer a phone call from someone, why would I stay connected with that person in these apps? Some of the profile-severing was challenging, but I am still connected via email and phone numbers; Facebook would no longer be a tool for those relationships. It's not like I disconnected from my acquaintances in the real world, just in the apps.

I stayed connected with my faith family, with whom I'm in covenant membership. We worship God together. I also stayed tied to my biological family through blood, adoption, or marriage. And there was a tiny bunch I regularly text, call, or connect with in other ways--actual friends as we had before the internet. There are also some ministry folks I'm actively working with in one way or another. Finally, there is a small group I simply find joy in following, like a Greek professor and a griddle guy. I did the same thing with the pages I follow. If they didn't bring help or joy, I stopped following them. Few remained.

What happened?

In the apps, nothing. That was the shocking part. I still saw the same handful of connections intermixed with excessive ads, sponsored posts, and "suggested for you" garbage. The machine kept showing me what it wanted me to see. Nothing changed. Nothing.

But in my soul, so much! I don't have that strange feeling that I'm missing something and must frequently check the apps. I'm not comparing my private life to everyone else's public life. Friends' posts only come alongside real life because I'm also connected outside of the apps. The number of "likes" means nothing because out of my 164 connections, only 4 or 5 were probably on the app today. I feel free. Resistance is not futile! I am not Borg.

Something else happened. The time I spent feeling crappy on the apps stopped. Now, I spend far less time gazing at a meaningless screen. Sure, there's a few minutes here and there, and then it's over quicker than it started. My time is rapidly becoming more productive. I'm reading more, from physical pages in books that smell nice. I'm seeing the world with my own eyes rather than through the eyes of the machine, and I see that the world is beautiful.

Also, I don't pull out a camera and point it at my face while sitting on the toilet. Don't judge me; I'm sure you stare at your phone (with that camera staring back at you) while you sit on the can, too. I've stopped. There's no need. And if for no other reason, that's a good reason to kill the social media addiction. It's gross.

My attitude is shifting, and joy is coming back. All it took was getting real about how a social media app changed the way I thought about relationships. I had to stop letting Facebook tell me I had to be anchored to past or unmeaningful relationships at the cost of those in the real world, in real life. I had to remember what being a social human means again. It turns out it's pretty good.

As a Christian, my identity and joy must be rooted in Christ, yet social media was becoming an assault on my identity and joy. This move was one of a few steps to change that.