Life Without Social Media

Back when I was working as an art director in 2017, social media wasn't nearly as algorithm driven as it is today. Still, because of my job, I was constantly monitoring the social media activity of the brands we worked with. Even back then, I could slowly feel the damage it was doing to my mental health.

When I left that job and went all in on freelancing, I no longer had any real reason to stay on social media. That was the first time I deleted all my accounts across every platform. The only thing I kept was LinkedIn, but I was never really a fan of it, so I barely used it compared to Facebook and Instagram.

Things stayed that way until 2022, when I came back to Instagram, this time as a creator. I've already told that story in previous posts.

So I know what life without social media feels like.

But this time was different.

This time I left social media as a creator, when it had become a major part of my work and one of the tools I used to attract consulting clients. When I finally deleted everything again at the beginning of 2026, life genuinely felt different.

The first thing you notice after making that decision is an incredible sense of relief.

A relief from the pressure, the stress, and all the constant identity management that comes with being online. You're always worried that something might happen, that a post could be misunderstood, that you might suddenly find yourself in some unnecessary drama.

The day after deleting everything, it feels like you've taken a huge mountain off your back. You relax. Your time becomes yours again.

And somehow, time itself starts to slow down.

There is more baraka in the day.

Suddenly, you have so much time in your hands. You start doing things that always felt impossible when you were trapped inside that world.

For example, I love praying all my prayers in the mosque with the congregation. But somehow, my mind always convinced me there wasn't enough time.

The moment I stopped everything, I realized there was absolutely no reason not to go.

So I started making it a habit. After prayer, I would usually go for a walk.

One day, while walking back from the mosque, I passed by a park that had probably opened recently. I thought, let me go in and see what it's like.

I will never forget that afternoon for as long as I live.

For the first time in years, I felt something I hadn't experienced since childhood.

That feeling of a long day.

A simple life.

Being surrounded by good people.

A world that somehow feels brighter and warmer.

I sat on a bench near a group of older men. Around them were families, children playing, people bringing snacks and sitting on beautiful green grass, simply enjoying life.

Watching all of that made me start questioning myself.

Why had I deprived myself of this?

Why wasn't I doing this before?

Why was I drowning myself in all that stress, convinced that life would somehow fall apart if I didn't do this, this, and that?

My mind went deep into a rabbit hole of existential questions.

What shocked me most that afternoon was realizing how much life exists outside of constantly worrying about who saw your content, who liked it, and who shared it.

While I was lost in those thoughts, an elderly man arrived and joined the group of older men sitting nearby.

He greeted everyone, including me, even though I was sitting about ten meters away.

They welcomed him warmly and started joking with him.

"Where have you been? You had us worried."

That moment felt so pure.

Watching them laugh together made me question even more why I had allowed myself to get swallowed by the digital world while real life, with all its simplicity and beauty, was happening right outside.

It's truly an experience I will never forget.

The weather was beautiful.

The world felt beautiful.

People were spending quality time with their children and families.

Everyone was simply there to enjoy a peaceful afternoon surrounded by greenery, without spending money, without showing off, without trying to impress anyone.

The world we live in today has convinced us that if we want to have a good time, we need to spend money.

A fancy café.

A trendy restaurant.

An exclusive place that ordinary people supposedly don't have access to.

Then eventually you realize something.

The ordinary people are often the ones living the good life.

Their activities keep them grounded.

They remind you that there is so much more to life than sitting behind screens and comparing yourself to people who aren't even real.

Since then, this has become one of the habits I've intentionally built into my life.

Right after prayer, I'll either take a book with me or simply sit in a park.

Those moments have become the happiest part of my day.

I return home relaxed.

My mind feels clear.

And I find myself saying, Alhamdulillah for everything.

After this experience, I realized that the digital world has done real damage to our lives.

It has damaged our simplicity as human beings.

More than that, it has distorted our understanding of happiness and what a fulfilling life actually looks like.

Less digital.

Less fake.

That's the way I want to live.

And that's the goal.

Alhamdulillah for everything.