When I began this semester, I found myself spending hours every day scrolling on TikTok.
It was the first thing I did in the morning and the last thing I did before going to bed. Between the addicting algorithm and endless stream of videos, I couldn’t put my phone down.
After an entire day of classes, work, extracurriculars and social events, I told myself that I was too tired to do anything else. TikTok provided a limitless, mind-numbing escape. I was in the know about slang and up to date on celebrity news and trends.
TikTok has had a grip on people my age since it was created in 2018, when the company ByteDance bought Musical.ly and turned it into the video platform we know and love today. With 150 million users in the United States and 1 billion users worldwide, it can feel as if everyone who is someone has the video app.
A 2022 study by the Frontiers in Psychology journal found TikTok to be the most addictive social media platform, and I would have to agree.
Through TikTok, I had somehow morphed into an English major who hadn’t read a book in months. A fiction writer who hadn’t written all summer. I justified it by saying I read and write all the time for class, and it’s ok to take a break – and it is okay to take a break.
But breaks are not the same thing as a hiatus.
I realized I could spend hours on TikTok and would only remember a handful of the videos I watched. How is that a healthy use of my time?
I also found myself a little too easily influenced. I love thrifting and fashion, and I would watch video after video of outfit inspiration and thrift hauls, and then bam, I had the urge to go shopping online. I – an advocate of sustainable fashion – found myself buying into micro-trends.
Further, TikTok was starting to make me insecure.
This summer, a trend began of girls showing close-up videos of their features and then a full video of their face, and the comments discussed if they had good features or bad features and whether or not they had facial harmony. Facial harmony? What does that even mean? Why am I worried if my chin matches my nose? Who cares?
One trend linked animals to certain traits, so if you had circles under your eyes, you were “raccoon pretty.” There’s the term “legging-legs” – the idea of needing a thigh gap for leggings – and canthal tilts – the degree, up or down, that your eyes sit (downwards means you look old and tired)! These kinds of trends can affect you even if you know it’s utter garbage. I have always been insecure about my physical appearance, and TikTok exaggerated that by constantly reminding me of it.
I deleted the app. It was hard at first, and I was constantly tempted to re-download it and fill the gaping Tik- Tok-shaped hole in my soul. After two weeks, though, I no longer missed it.
Of course, not everyone’s TikTok is going to show them the same thing, and some people are probably less influenced or have a stronger discipline to put the phone down. TikTok wasn’t all bad for me either: I discovered new music, learned tricks for curling my hair without an iron and found dorm-friendly recipes.
However, I began to struggle with my mental health. I struggled with deadlines. I missed my hobbies.
Since deleting TikTok, I’m still just as in-the-know thanks to Instagram and the news apps on my phone. I’ve started watching a new TV show and have already read two books this month. Plus, my attention span is already improving.
Ultimately, no amount of pop culture or internet trends is worth your peace of mind.
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