Social media can be our best friend and our worst enemy when it comes to facing down imposter syndrome and feelings of self-doubt.
There are so many amazing things about being able to meet and connect with people no matter where they live or work. Once upon a time we had to meet people because we happen to go to school with them or work with them or live nearby. But the internet removed the requirements of geography and circumstance to find and meet people, so suddenly we had these communities of people who shared our interests, or we could keep tabs on people we admired or were inspired by with a few clicks.
There’s a lot of power in that. There’s also a lot of downside.
While we open up the connection floodgates, we can also easily get overwhelmed by the ability to connect anytime, anywhere, ALL the time. And as we continue to put ourselves and our work out there on the great wide web, we open ourselves up to input and commentary from friends and strangers alike; commentary that’s hard to ignore no matter how well-intentioned we are.
And of course, because of the voyeuristic nature of all of this stuff, we’re always peering at the greener side of the grass.
Because social media rewards us with a dopamine hit for the clicks and the likes and the shares, we tend to share the stuff that will GET the likes and the clicks and the shares. The picture of us looking our very best (vs the bedhead and cold we woke up with). The promotion we got at work, our adorable kids, our immaculate house, our exciting vacation, our interesting hobbies, the filtered, cropped and edited snapshots of our lives that make for really compelling highlight reels.
But all the while we know that our life really isn’t that neat and tidy. We know the behind-the-scenes vantage point, the mess that’s just out of frame, the rough spots and the imperfection. The doubt. The fear.
And it’s all too easy to compare our full-color, full-frontal, full-messy reality to the carefully curated version of other people that we see in our social media feeds.
The antidote to all of this?
Stop. Take yourself OUT of the rat race for a while, and take a breather from the relentless drumbeat of the always-on online world.
Last October, I took a digital sabbatical because I needed to reset some things.
I wasn’t feeling productive, I felt stagnant and in a rut, and I was constantly overwhelmed by the sensory and emotional bombardment of an always-on news cycle and a digital marketing career that felt like it demanded more and more of me every day.
So I shut off Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram for 30 days.
I estimate that on average I reclaimed 3-5 hours out of every day, from my hour-long commute each way on the train (now spent reading, writing, or listening to podcasts instead of just thumbing through Facebook) to time in the evenings and on the weekends that would too often get consumed with being on my laptop or phone.
I also learned that too much social media dulls my creativity. I spend a lot of time online for work, and it was far too easy for me to just linger, aimlessly wandering through social networks and into conversations or content that left me feeling empty and frustrated.
Social media was also a crutch for me often, a first go-to place when I was feeling restless and I wasn’t tuned into why I was feeling that way. So because it was readily available and easy to find, I would just click open Facebook or Instagram to try and soothe myself or give my brain hamsters something to do instead of dealing with the crunchy feelings.
After I shut the apps off, when those feelings showed up I had to actively ask myself “What do I need right now?” when I felt mindlessly drawn to flipping through my social feeds, and consciously tried to figure out what I was feeling.
Bored? Tired? Procrastinating a task I didn’t want to do? Lonely and craving connection? Seeking approval or validation because I was feeling inadequate?
I felt all those things at one point or another, but most often I realized I was muting myself and what makes me unique…out of fear.
For example, frequently I wouldn’t write, or create, or play music because somehow I would feel unworthy of those pursuits – they’d feel frivolous, and like I should have been doing something “productive” – and I also was afraid of being bad at them. I’m still unpacking where those misguided notions of creative perfectionism come from, but suffice it to say it was a bit of an epiphany.
I also had a hard time letting go of my past mistakes and failures, and many of my social networks were serving as heavy, moss-covered anchors holding me in my past self rather than allowing me to move freely, fully and confidently into who I am today. I still felt like I owed people explanations for why I didn’t write six more books or chase a massive speaking career or why my business failed and my career stalled. I was clinging to empty relationships that were long past their expiration date, thinking those people actually noticed whether I was around or not (spoiler: they didn’t) and that they were paying attention to what I was doing or not doing (spoiler: they weren’t).
So I was stuck in this limbo of needing validation and needing to break free of those self-inflicted expectations and baggage. All of those self-imposed limitations were constantly making me feel like I didn’t measure up, and that I didn’t have enough of value to offer compared to so many other people.
Then I got the heck offline for a while…and regained a lot of perspective.
It was a huge weight off my shoulders when I gave that gift of freedom to myself. The freedom to set down the expectations and the hyperconnection and the song and dance of “personal branding” and constantly trying to keep up with whoever I’d decided I needed to keep up with. Getting offline for a while made a palpable, concrete difference in my mood, my sense of self-worth, and my sleep habits.
It was also a massive blow to the perpetual comparison trap that was easy to fall into, a trap that’s like rocket fuel for imposter syndrome and self doubt. Take away the oxygen for the fire, and it peters out.
It allowed me the space to contemplate what I really cared about, how I really wanted to show up online, and what mattered to me most when it came to my own goals and aspirations without the shadow of other people’s versions of success hovering over me.
When I was ready to step back into the fray a month later, I did it with a completely revamped perspective.
Next week, I’ll share more about what changes I made – including a newly clear philosophy about online connection – because I think they’re changes that might be helpful for you too when it comes to maintaining a healthy digital balance.
So, how about it? Have you taken a digital sabbatical, even for a few days? What about doing it scares you…and what feels liberating? I’d love to discuss with you in the comments below.
