Why I Disconnect from Social Media

September 18, 2024

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about my relationship with social media, and it’s safe to say we’ve had a complicated, love-hate thing going on. I activate, I engage, I scroll—only to disconnect, deactivate, and vanish from it all. And trust me, this cycle isn’t about playing games or being elusive. It’s about something deeper. So, let me tell you why I disconnect from social media.

The Importance of Creative Isolation

First, I thrive in creative isolation. That might sound counterintuitive in a world where creators are expected to plaster every moment of their lives online, but it’s the truth. Creativity, for me, isn’t something that flourishes in the noise of notifications and endless streams of dopamine hits from likes and shares. It’s born in the silence, in the absurdity of staring at a wall and letting my brain wander to places algorithms would never guide me. Social media, with its constant trends and clickbait demands, clutters that space. It creates a noise I can’t sift through if I want to stay true to my vision. I don’t want to be just another echo in the void—I want my voice to be something real, something raw. Disconnecting allows me to preserve that.

Balancing a Career in Digital Marketing

Here’s where things get tricky, though—my real job. I work in digital marketing, which means I’m online all the time. I manage social channels for companies, craft digital strategies, analyze engagement data, and yes, I spend my workdays building online presences. I’m paid to keep others constantly “on.” Ironically, it’s part of the reason I need to step away from my own. When your day job revolves around making sure others are digitally connected 24/7, it’s easy to feel like you’re drowning in the constant digital noise. The last thing I want after a day of pushing metrics and analyzing hashtags is to log into my own social media and do it all over again.

The irony of working in digital marketing is that I’m responsible for driving screen time for others, but when it comes to my own life, I try to cut it down. Screen time for the average adult has been on the rise for years, and I can feel the effects.

Below is a graph showing the average weekly screen time for adults over the past decade, illustrating this upward trend:

As you can see, screen time has been steadily increasing, with a significant spike in recent years. This mirrors my own experience, and it’s one of the main reasons I feel the need to step back and reset.

Being a Parent in a Digital World

Being a parent only amplifies the need to disconnect. I want to be present for my family, to enjoy the fleeting moments with my kids that seem to speed up as they grow. Social media creates this constant pull—whether it’s work or personal—but I don’t want to be the dad with his face buried in his phone while my kids are telling me about their day. Disconnecting allows me to actually be present, to focus on what really matters in life, not just in the digital world. My kids deserve my attention, not the filtered version of me through a screen.

The Emotional Toll of Constant Contact

Now, here’s something I don’t talk about often, but it’s a big part of why I disconnect: the people in my life. Over time, I’ve noticed a pattern. Most of the time when people reach out to me, it’s because they need something. It’s a strange thing to admit because, honestly, I enjoy helping people. There’s a real satisfaction in being able to lend a hand or offer advice. But there’s a point where it becomes too much—where you start to feel more like a service provider than a friend, a family member, or just Marshall. You become someone people tap into when they need something, not someone they check in on just to see how you’re doing.

That constant outpouring can be draining, especially when you’ve got your own responsibilities. Helping others is great, but sometimes you just want someone to call you to ask, “How are you?”—not, “Can you help me with this?” or, “Can you fix that?” Disconnecting helps me reset those boundaries. It lets me recharge so that when I do show up to help, I’m not already running on empty.

AI and the Fight for Originality

And then, there’s AI. Everywhere you look, AI is creeping into every corner of content creation through the democratization of art. It’s a fascinating tool, and I get why people are adopting it in droves—it’s efficient, it’s fast, and it’s everywhere. But as more and more of the creative world starts outsourcing their originality to machines, I find myself feeling the opposite pull. If there’s ever been a time to disconnect and focus on true originality, it’s now. We’re surrounded by content generated in seconds by machines that never tire, but there’s something soulless about that. I don’t want to create something that a machine could have spit out. I want my work to be undeniably human, absurd, flawed, strange, and real. The only way I know how to stay true to that is to unplug, to let my brain wander without the noise of endless information and endless automation looming over me.

I crave depth, and I want my content—whether it’s a surreal script or an offbeat film—to cut through that surface-level nonsense. If I’m constantly caught up in the algorithm, worrying about engagement metrics, I’ll lose sight of why I started creating in the first place. Stepping away from social media is my way of saying, “Screw it. I don’t need the noise. I need the quiet, the weird, and the unfiltered moments where my creativity thrives.”

The Simple Truth

Then there’s the simple truth: I’m tired. We live in a world that rewards being constantly “on”—always plugged in, always ready to respond, always pushing out more content. It’s exhausting. Social media can become a vortex, draining the energy you could be using to live your actual life. I disconnect from social media because sometimes I need to rest. I need space where I’m not performing or producing, where I’m just… me. The idea of taking a step back to simply exist without feeling the pressure to show up for an invisible audience is liberating.

I know I’ll always come back—eventually. Social media is a tool, and when used intentionally, it has its benefits. But I’m okay with disappearing for a while. I’m okay with the world continuing without me while I take a breath and refocus on what matters: my creativity, my family, and my own sense of peace. So, if you see me vanish from your feed again, don’t freak out. I’m not gone—I’m just out here in the real world, away from the algorithms, reconnecting with what makes me feel human. I’m disconnecting so I can come back with something real, something raw, something that isn’t just another post lost in the scroll.