The Catholic Commons

What I learned after three years away

A few months ago, after years of being off of social media, I tried logging back into what I thought was my permanently deleted Instagram account.

To my surprise, it was easily recovered. Suddenly, years of old memories were right there, archived and waiting.

Part of me wanted to throw the phone across the room—like Frodo having the One Ring slip right back into his pocket, dangerous and tempting as ever. The other part of me was curious. I started scrolling through old family videos and posts I’d so carefully written back then, and it was honestly a joy. Reliving those moments that had been quietly sitting in the cloud all along was surprisingly sweet.

There were so many clips from when our older kiddos were little! As we watched them together, I felt grateful to have them again….but also saddened that they’d only been saved on Instagram. I should have been archiving them for our family, not storing them on social media.

As I scrolled, I started to wonder: Could it actually be a good thing to return to social media?

My original intent for being on there was to share my faith and grow in my writing. Looking back, everything I posted still felt inspired to me. The words rang true, felt meaningful, and were still authentic to who I am (aside from a few cringeworthy dance videos I shared back when I had a little less shame—ha!). I remembered how much I loved creating and sharing online, and especially the sense of community it once brought me.

But it only took about a day to realize I wouldn’t be coming back—not in the way I used to be, so active and present. I gained too much in walking away, and I wasn’t about to give it up.

Since I’d only been accessing Instagram sparingly through my browser on another new account (I used it only for news and updates, no friends and no posting), I hadn’t realized just how much the app had changed in the past three years.

It was noisy when I left… now it’s overwhelmingly loud. My entire feed was reel after reel, a mashup of TikTok and YouTube with short, curated videos set to catchy music. (You can even add music to still photos now! I hate that almost as much as I loathe ASMR.)

Before, Instagram was like a digital scrapbook and a place to share inspiring words. Now? It’s like TikTok and Pinterest’s little baby: the algorithm is wild, reels rule everything, and it feels like everyone’s either selling something, becoming a brand, or trying to grow in followers. Strangers “providing value” end up burying the people you actually want to see most.

I know that there are still plenty of good, well-intentioned people sharing the Good News there—and when done well, that’s a beautiful thing. But I don’t want to add to the noise. I want to offer something quieter, deeper, and lasting.

Maybe you feel restless when you set down your phone. Perhaps that’s what prompted you to click on this article. I’ve been there before, desperately wanting answers and someone to tell me just how to stop picking up my phone.

Full disclosure?

I still struggle with it.

Giving up social media did not take away my compulsion to grab my phone every time I am bored or want to escape reality. I still have to daily battle this war.

Yet, even with that said, perhaps I have some insight that might help you.

That quick visit back to Instagram reminded me why I left and why staying off has been one of the most freeing decisions I’ve made.

Here are a few things I’ve learned in the years away:

1. There is peace in the ordinary moments of the day.

Though I hate to admit this, so much of my time when I was active online was spent scanning and searching for things to share. I didn’t do it intentionally, but my mind would go on autopilot. Breakfast, outings, schooling, bedtime—all of it was fair game.

If my children were doing something beautiful—or giving me a reason to reflect on the hard—I felt compelled to share that moment without delay. This is a sickness. We were not made to live this way. Our lives and especially our children are not “content” for others to consume. They are precious, and our days with them days are short.

Instead of posting about their little habits and lives, I should have just been enjoying them. Leaving social media has opened up my heart to be a thousand times more present to them than I was before. This has been the greatest gift.

Maybe you don’t struggle with sharing much online, but instead are the one just quietly scrolling. Though this may feel innocent enough, this similarly creates an unnecessary weight on our shoulders. Constantly checking in on other people’s curated lives online may feel like a quick escape and comfort, but that kind of scrolling begins to color how we see our own lives and impacts how we are living.

Stepping away from it all gave me the kind of peace I hadn’t realized I was missing—the kind that comes from living my own moments fully, without measuring them against someone else’s. The Lord doesn’t want us living with this kind of burden. He wants us free from it.

2. There is strength in a living a more “hidden life.”

This doesn’t mean that we should all be little hermits, hidden away from the world and seeking quiet. (We weren’t created to live in isolation!) It means the sharing of our lives with others and access to theirs should be limited.

What matters more is in-the-flesh community and being present to those God has placed in your life. I was honestly kind of scared to leave social media because it was a part of the work I wanted to do. When I left social media, I had grown a small but steadily growing following—over 4,000 people in just a couple of years. I had started with nothing, and it felt like the kind of growth I was hoping for. Part of me believed it would only continue.

But even in the middle of that momentum I knew something wasn’t right. The anxiety, distraction, and pressure were stealing more from me than the platform was giving. Choosing to walk away wasn’t easy but it was necessary for my soul.

Being away taught me more clearly that we live in seasons. Sometimes we have the capacity to give a lot, but at other times, it’s perfectly okay to retreat. In striving to keep up and give the best of ourselves to others, especially online, we end up suffering in the end. For me, sacrificing the work I had was a no-brainer when it came to reducing the anxiety and noise the app was bringing to my life.

3. There is power in silence.

Our world, along with our access to news, content, and “stories,” is more jumbled and louder than ever. It’s no wonder there’s so much division and confusion; there’s hardly a moment left for the quiet stillness we need to hear the voice of God in our lives.

As Cardinal Robert Sarah so powerfully writes:

“Noise is a deceptive, addictive whirlwind that avoids facing the emptiness within.”

We have to allow room for quiet in our lives. The silence is the space we need to remember who we are, Who we belong to, and our real purpose in life. The internet—especially social media—fills our hearts and minds with so much noise. To create room to listen to and talk with God, we need to minimize the cognitive traffic that social media brings.

In stepping away, I found it easier to hear the Lord’s voice in prayer and especially in the ordinary moments of life. Oftentimes, especially as a mother, I used social media to escape the very busy and noisy life with my very loud and active children. When I quit trying to do that—when I put down my phone—I gained a sense of wonder back. Those mundane moments started becoming treasures again, because I was no longer using my phone to escape them when things felt hard.

4. You are more than your compulsions.

So many of us can see that there are many attachments in our lives that need to be rooted out—things we have a hard time saying no to, even when we so desperately want to. This is enslavement. Whether your compulsion is the time you spend on your phone, gossip, road rage, overeating, pornography or something else entirely, these habits don’t have to control us.

These things become compulsions because we are weak. (This is just the nature of our fallen human condition.) The theological term for this is “concupiscence,” which refers to our tendency to place material pleasures first, even at the expense of spiritual goods. It’s that thing within us that entices us to do the thing we do not wish to do, rather than the good we know we should. St. Paul speaks of this in Romans, saying:

“For I know that good does not dwell in me, that is, in my flesh. The willing is ready at hand, but doing the good is not.” (Romans 7:9)

In our flesh—our human nature apart from God’s grace—we are going to struggle.

This struggle we all experience is different from Original Sin, which is wiped away in Baptism. Concupiscence is something that remains long after we are restored spiritually in Baptism. It’s essentially the aftereffects of Original Sin, like the weakness we experience after recovering from a serious disease.

Yet, while this weakness has a strong pull, we should not succumb to despair. We have the gift of grace in Christ and the God-given free will to overcome it.

With His help, we can make choices that reshape our habits.

We can change our disposition.

We just need to want it badly enough, make the choice, and begin.

For me that looked like pulling the plug on social media completely. For you, it may look different. Ask the Lord what he wills for your life, meditate on it, and act. Don’t forget that “faithfulness in small things is a big thing.” (Luke 16:10)

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There are probably a thousand other things I have gleaned over the years after leaving social media. It has formed me anew and I am glad that I acted on the inspiration to leave years ago.

I don’t know what the future for me holds when it comes to social media, but I know I have more tools now to listen to what the Lord wills for me, over what I will for myself. In taking a big step back I gained a deeper understanding of what happens when I follow through in what he is calling me to do.

I am grateful for that.

There is no better clarity.

I hope this encourages you to seek the same kind of peace and clarity, especially if you have been struggling in your own relationship with life online too. It’s okay to take a step back, or even walk away completely, if that feels necessary. If you feel the nudge, trust in what God is inviting you into. He will not let you down.