Five Things a Year Off Social Media Taught Me

Tomy Wilkerson
6 min readDec 9, 2020

When I initially toyed with the idea of taking a year off social media, it was mainly because 2020 was an election year. After watching the whole of society descend into madness during and after 2016’s cycle, I decided the last thing I needed was to watch the church devolve further. What I couldn’t have accounted for was that 2020 would also be the year of a pandemic and national outrage over race relations in America. What I couldn’t have guessed is that this year would also be the year that we collectively realized there is something unhealthy about the way we’ve been using social media. The end of the year always brings with it a lot of reflection — my annual list of top books will come in time — but here are five things I learned taking a year off social media.

  1. Just because you think something, doesn’t mean you have to say it

In The Way of the Heart, Henri Nouwen talks about how we live in a wordy world and how silence teaches us the weight of words. Even though he was talking about the words we speak, the same could be said about social media presence. There were many moments over the course of this past year I wanted to make some pithy comment about current affairs only to come up against my own commitment to abstaining. In abstaining, I learned that so many of the things I want to say on a regular basis don’t need to be said. No one is looking for me to comment on anything. I’m not as important as I’m tempted to believe and sometimes, if you don’t have something nice to say, it really is better to not say anything at all.

2. Text messages and phone calls still exist and are still lovely options

One of the first things that happen when you come off major social media platforms is that your circle of relationships gets considerably smaller. You realize rather quickly how many phone numbers you don’t have, become pleasantly surprised at how many numbers you do have, and just how many people have not changed their contact information over the years. Social media allows us to watch people’s lives from a distance. We can keep tabs on people without ever actually having to say anything.

Perhaps, the through-line in all of these lessons is this: without social media, everything requires a bit more intentionality. I had to intentionally seek out the news. I had to intentionally learn about those around me. But also,I had to be intentional in my relationships. If someone came to my mind, I had to write them. Sometimes this meant tracking down their number just to say hi. As foreign as it felt, I rediscovered the lost art of texting as well as the joy of sitting on your porch, watching the cars pass by, as you take a phone call.

3. Without a virtual life, your actual one becomes that much more important

This, in some ways, is an extension of the last point. Once you realize that your social circle has somehow been diminished, you also quickly realize how much more intentionally you have to live. One of the things that’s troubled me over the years is the way we’ve become so busy documenting moments that we forgot to live in them. Social media, for better or worse, has become our personal bulletin board. Without it, everything became a bit more difficult. If I wanted to let those around me know that I am a Christian, I couldn’t rely on some post or bio on social media. I had to tell them. If I wanted to start a book club or a bible study (both of which I did), I couldn’t rely on a Facebook post. I had to come up with creative recruiting methods.

Networking and platform building become all but impossible. You have to ask yourself what’s more important: trying to create a brand or not doing that. Without the simple solution of posting a status, the harder, longer work of embodied witness becomes that much more important.

4. It’s okay to be out of the loop

There’s a scene in Lord of the Rings, Return of the King when Pippin steals the Palantír from Gandalf while he’s sleeping. After unveiling it, he can’t help but touch it. But in touching it, he finds, to his horror, he can’t let go. The seeing stone has come to life and now, this thing he was looking to possess, if only briefly, possesses him. He is more connected than he ever intended. Social media, at times, can feel that way at times.

Taking a break has felt like Gandalf throwing the blanket on the Palantír all over again. When people around you erupt about the latest drama taking place online, you don’t care. It’s not real to you. When people ask you if you’ve seen what so-and-so said about such-and-such, you don’t care. It’s not real to you. It’s nice not knowing the latest meme. Encountering people with differing opinions isn’t quite as jarring because you’re not in an echo chamber of keyboard warriors. You remember that people are people and they are not the enemy.

The challenge, of course, is that it becomes far too easy to abdicate any responsibility to remain aware of what’s happening in the world. Things get more complicated if social media sometimes is part of your job or a big part of the organization you work for. I had to have faith that events were advertised, that my blog posted. In the rare moments you might’ve seen me post something online, it’s because my wife did it for me. I made her promise not to tell me anything though.

5. You might be better without social media, but it doesn’t make you better than anyone else

For all the anxiety I felt this past year, social media was not one of them. For years I struggled with feeling like mindlessly scrolling through Instagram and Twitter was killing my productivity. Being off, I didn’t have that guilt. However, I think this year also taught me how things don’t just exist as entities (maybe they start that way), but how they evolve into symbols, concepts, or feelings. For example, we have Monday as the first day of the work week. But even when we have Mondays the “day”, off, Mondays, as a feeling, still exist. Tuesday becomes the new Monday. Similarly, I might have been more present with those around me by not being on social media, but other apps took their place. I just wasn’t preoccupied with other people’s lives.

For a while Zillow was the new Instagram, LetGo the new Facebook, YouTube the new Twitter. These were the apps I found myself subconsciously selecting when I had (or didn’t have) a spare moment. As much as I could be tempted to brag and feel self-righteous about my withdrawal, I have to contend with my need to be pacified, my ever-present desire to be entertained. I might not have checked my Instagram first thing in the morning, but I checked my inbox. How much of that was about daily newsletters I receive and how much of that was connected to my desire to feel productive? My own mistaken belief in my own importance? My own need to be connected? Who knows.

Now that 2020 is coming to a close, the question is whether or not I’m coming back. To be honest, I don’t know. I really liked not being on social media. Still, I’m just not convinced that Jesus would withdraw altogether. He’d probably find a way to share whatever is true, noble, right, lovely, and admirable. Social media is a way we connect to each other and the more I network, the more important it probably is that I establish some sort of online presence. I’m kicking around some possibilities but I just don’t feel any rush to have it sorted out.

That being said, as much as I might strongly encourage everyone to get off social media, the more mature part of me knows that the better thing is to encourage every person to take some time away and establish healthy boundaries around it. You might find yourself feeling that much mentally and emotionally freer.

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Tomy Wilkerson

“Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners — of whom I am the worst.” — 1 Timothy 1:15