She Quit Social Media for 30 Days—Including Dating Apps. Here’s What She Learned.

“I can’t believe another guy holding a fish in every photo has unmatched you,” my friend said, with a shake of her head. “The audacity.”

Our conversation is full of hyperbole and attempts to make light of our abysmal dating lives. We’re single friends in our 30s discussing dating over post-work drinks, cosplaying an episode of “Sex and the City,” and glancing around in quiet hopes that eligible bachelors also chose to spend their evening in the girly pop cocktail lounge (no dice).

The restaurant vibe is disappointing us too. We chose it after seeing a local influencer hype up the aesthetic on TikTok. In reality, the decor felt orchestrated for a photoshoot rather than atmosphere.

Suddenly, everything that’s wrong seems to have a common denominator — my phone. Dating apps were making us feel hopeless and we’d let social media dictate our night. It all felt too shallow.

I decided to make a change. I quit all social media and dating apps for a whole month.

Now, some important context. I live in Denver, the only “Love Is Blind” city where no one got married. Dating here is weird and the apps were just making it weirder. I wasn’t worried about missing much by ditching Hinge and Bumble.

However, when it came to social media, I was worried about missing out on everything. I’m a Zillennial — I was there for the invention of social media. I’m quick to adopt the next thing (no, it’s not lemon8 but I’m having a great time on the Substack feed) and I’m quick to move on when the trend dies (I can’t believe some of you still use Snapchat). Social media kept me up to date on cultural trends, local news, fashion must-haves, and my friend’s lives.

My social media fast took place in September, so I was worried I’d miss out on fall vibes and pumpkin recipes, Minnesota State Fair foodie coverage, Ashby’s live streams, and discussion on the new season of “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.” I was ditching Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook. Side note: I haven’t posted on Twitter since 2021, one of my last tweets being: Can't stop noticing Henry Cavill's short arms #TheWitcher.

I figured that the things I might miss felt small compared to my motivations for going cold turkey on my virtual social life.

Social media companies have very intentionally designed their algorithms to be addicting. The dopamine hit we get from the infinite scroll has been compared to gambling addictions, according to Stanford psychiatrist Anna Lembke’s book, “Dopamine Nation.” A systematic review found in the International Journal of Adolescence and Youth also found that social media use can have negative consequences like an increased risk of depression, anxiety, and psychological distress (speaking of dating apps.)

There’s even been studies that found internet addiction can change the gray matter in your brain. That can’t be bad, right?

Recently, we’re seeing the biggest social media platforms losing massive lawsuits due the addictive and damaging nature of their platforms:

• Meta is paying $18 billion in a settlement over teen social media addiction and adding improved child-safety measures.
• TikTok is paying Alabama $100 million and upping their safety features too.
• Singapore is literally paying people to read everyday to fight doomscrolling.

What more evidence do you need to see how harmful social media can be?

I was certainly seeing signs of it in my own life. I felt the pull of the doomscroll. I felt time, the most precious human commodity, being wasted again and again on garbage. Yes, there’s some value to social media, it can be fun, educational, it can bring people together. But largely? Garbage! Brain rot! Nonsense! My brain felt mush. I was wasting time but I couldn’t stop. One more video, one more, okay I’ll just scroll while I cook. Insanity.

My screentime report said I spent just under 10 hours a day on my phone and 27 hours a week on social media. This is just shy of the average, which is 12 hours according to the Reviews.org Screen Time and Internet Usage Statistics report. I wanted freedom from it.

Stepping away from being a smartphone zombie wasn’t a singular action. I wasn’t just going to delete apps and continue on business as usual. I wanted to do something with my newfound free time. I wanted to look up, step outside, and into real life.

First up: I went to a pro wrestling event. Yeah seriously. You should know I’m not into wrestling. But when I saw the German bierhalle downtown was hosting the Rocky Mountain Pro wrestling event, I thought that would certainly be lively.

And that it was! I was surprised how enthusiastic the crowd was. They knew the wrestler’s call signs, had clear favorites, and weren’t afraid to trash talk the losers. It was theatrical, acrobatic, and creative. I was in a room full of thespians in spandex. I had stepped into a fully formed subculture — it was fascinating.

And I wasn’t the only one with my phone away.

People were engaged, chatting with each other, participating in the night’s energy, reacting as if they too were part of the performance. By the end of the night, I was raising my arm and shouting “Chop! Chop! Chop!”

My next outing was less engaging and truly tested my attention span. I went to a Rockies baseball game. This was an activity where I really felt the itch to scroll social media. Why, you ask? Baseball is boring — especially when the team you're watching has set records for losing.

But without access to Instagram, I did a lot more watching baseball, I chatted with my seat neighbors, I participated in the wave. Eventually, I was enjoying the peaceful quiet of a scroll-less evening. In fact, I even enjoyed being a little bit bored.

The most meaningful way I spent my time this month — I volunteered. And I didn’t post about it. I spent a day at a local nonprofit painting rooms, preparing for a fundraising event, and brightening the space for the people they serve. After feeling like I had been wasting so much time on social media feeds, it was very fulfilling to spend my time with purpose. Stepping into spaces that serve vulnerable people was a bit of a reality check on what’s important. The real world needs people to step into their communities with as much passion for others as they have when commenting on a viral TikTok story time.

I tried new and weird things, spent more time on my health, gave back to my community, and my tech neck hurt less. I wasn’t burdened by the doomscroll and felt more connected to reality. Boredom really frees you up to look around and make eye contact (gasp).

Here are the key things I learned from this experience:

My month blocked off from social media was one of the busiest I’ve had in awhile, full of new experiences, great memories, and a lighter spirit. I felt the gift of time. Like I had somehow lived more life this month. And I don’t want to go back.

That said, I don’t want to delete social media permanently. I can’t commit to the unplugged life in the way a college friend of mine has: I think she had a baby this year, but there’s no way of really knowing. I still value sharing my digital scrapbook online, keeping up to date with the latest cultural obsessions, and most of all, seeing the beautiful ways my friends and family are out living their lives.

So I’m plugging back in, utilizing my Brick, upping my screentime restrictions, and … deleting my Hinge account.