What my social media detox made me realize about TikTok
Camp gave me a lot of things, one of them being a brain rot reprieve
Hey! I am sure you have totally noticed my absence with the lack of me in your inbox, but I have been away for the summer. Not having a Euro summer or anything, no no no. I have been a counselor for nine-year-olds at an overnight camp in rural Pennsylvania; the same one I have attended for the past 11 years (a very glamorous summer if you ask me).
Anywho, at this camp there is a steadfast “no cellphones” rule in place for around the campers. While I could get some much-needed phone time on my occasional off periods, overall my screen time had been drastically diminished. Because of this, I feel that I have experienced a reboot of sorts that has made me take in certain apps with a fresh set of eyes.
Most notably for me, my TikTok time no longer feels like entertainment. If anything, as I scroll on my FYP, I am repeatedly taken aback by how strange the whole production is. I will see a video and have a moment to myself where I am like, literally what is this? This is a real person posting, not a bot? I feel as if my detox has broken the fourth wall between the algorithm and the mindless viewer within my own head, and I want to share my thoughts about it.
This little disjointed rant is not meant to be some super deep social commentary. I want this to be a reminder for myself to try to not get sucked back into the TikTok brain rot. If you are thinking that someone couldn’t pry TikTok out of your cold dead hands, I get it. If all you could ever want after a long day is to lay in bed and scroll for hours, trust me, I’ve been there.
But what I’ve realized is that the hundreds of videos I watch do not exist in a vacuum. They influence me in imperceptible ways that I am only beginning to pick up on. TikTok can be a means to understanding broader pop culture, it shouldn’t be something that affects my habits, beliefs, and mental health. Now, onto the examples of why TikTok has been transformed from my favorite app to being so, just… odd.
The new “TikTok Face”: Everybody looks the same
Most people know what the Instagram face is (i.e. overfilled lips, sharp cheekbones, cat eyes, and skin so tight it can only be from a facelift), but TikTok face seems to have taken that concept to another level. I am not trying to be dramatic – I feel as if thousands of people are starting to look like doppelgängers of each other due to everybody striving for the same beauty ideal. Almost every local microinfluencer has the same face appropriated from the Insta baddie but with the addition of soap brows and Botoxed-frozen expressions.
I think when I was so absorbed in TikTok these over-filled faces seemed regular, even average. However, my limited social media use made the sheer number of influencer look-alikes shocking once I re-opened the apps.
Maybe the rampant “TikTok face” on my FYP was more surprising now because I had always assumed that TikTok was meant for the normies. I can expect Instagram influencers to look perfectly crafted by the gods (or a plastic surgeon) because Instagram is the highlight reel app. On the contrary, TikTok is supposed to be about relatability and authenticity given that only so much can be hidden in video format. But now we are reaching a filler pandemic, and even the normies are looking like TikTok’s “Bold Glamour” filter in real life.
I only say this as an observation, not a mandate that striving to look like this is morally wrong. And also, these girls are still extremely beautiful, don’t get it twisted. It is just a bit jarring to see that with expanded technology, beauty trends are starting to include facial feature fads, leading to a homogenous looking feed. Though, the real problem isn’t that everybody is looking the same from cosmetic procedures, but why masses of people are feeling the need to match this cookie-cutter look. But that is another topic for another day. Onto the next!
The trauma dumping olympics
On a completely separate note, another bizarre part about TikTok is the sheer amount of trauma dumping. This is not a hot take, many people have spoken about this, but taking a break from the app made me notice this phenomenon even more.
Take this video that graced my FYP, made by creator @ontheborder.lyne. It is about how people don’t acknowledge the generational trauma faced by families of Irish immigrants. No hate to the creator, topics like these are valid and important to shed light on. What is more notable to me is the users who share their families’ deepest traumas with utter strangers in the comments section. In this video’s comments section, hundreds of users write about their families’ severe anxiety, depression, and alcoholism rather flippantly. What happened to hello, how are you?
This is just one example, but I cannot count all the times that I have seen either a creator or a commentator sharing fifth-session-of-therapy stories on TikTok to a public audience. In another instance, there was a pretty recent trend where people would make “trauma candy salads” by sharing a horrible thing that happened to them with each candy dropped into a bowl.
When you're sucked into TikTok, this behavior seems totally run of the mill. Oh yes, a video about child abuse right after a Sephora haul – typical. But as the theme of this piece goes, after a break this content becomes puzzling and a little concerning.
One could accurately say that it is important to spread awareness about taboo subjects on social media, and sharing these traumatic stories makes people feel less alone. Moreover, how is sharing your trauma in a TikTok different from writing a memoir about it? Maybe the only difference is that one is seen as more dignified than the other.
However, I think the significant difference is that many people share their trauma on social media in a rather cavalier way. It is almost too casual for such deep subject matter, and it often reads as attention seeking to say shocking things for views. There is rage bait, clickbait, and now maybe a new category of trauma bait. This just goes to say that we are possibly losing the plot about digital footprints by getting too comfortable sharing personal information online.
Before I wrap this section up, I want to mention that not everyone who is sharing trauma online is doing it this way – I don’t mean to over generalize. Given that there are marked benefits for people using social media as a coping strategy, there has to be some middle path to use it more healthily. I don’t know what that is, but I’m sure it exists and I hope somebody discovers it soon.
In the words of Carly Simon, “You're So Vain”
Switching gears once again, the last subject I want to bring up is the vanity and narcissism on TikTok that is alarmingly obvious after a short detox. From thirst traps and outfit checks (guilty…) to excessive emphasis on being a “hot girl,” TikTok is extremely appearance-focused.
I don’t know if this is just my algorithm, and if it is I don’t know what that says about me, but it seems like every video on my FYP is about hair, makeup, a niche wellness practice, skincare, weight loss, or fashion micro trends. I always exit the app feeling like I need to buy more or do more to look better, and I hate that feeling.
Social media in general has become consumerist fodder, bombarding you with products that influencers claim will maximize your life, and it is exhausting to absorb that content all the time. Whether it be the perfect black miniskirt, the blush that will give the ultimate “tomato girl” glow, or the hair product that will change your life, it becomes challenging to wade through what you actually want and what others say you need. And if we are repeatedly told how important our looks are, and tangentially the products we use to improve our looks, of course we will eagerly consume this content. One might say don’t hate the player, hate the game.
This is all compounded by the fact that with the monumental rise of social media, nobody seems to be embarrassed about appearing too vain anymore. It is “Me! Me! Look at me!” all the time on social media because that is the type of culture these apps normalize just by their nature; maintaining a profile will inherently make you more concerned with yourself and how you appear to others. So, everybody yapping about products to make you look better combined with the already self-centered fabric of social media creates this narcissistic storm.
I cannot emphasize enough how I feel this vanity seeps into my own life. I love fishing for compliments and I think about how I look often. My online shopping carts include clothes that random influencer X told me would be the it-girl pieces of this fall. My TikTok account is full of OOTDs and random lip-synching videos. I even did a “day in my life” video the other day. Why would I even think that anyone would care to watch a day in my life? Who knows! It is fun to post this stuff, to show off your life, to be vain, and it’s why people gravitate toward watching and making this content. However, the lines are blurring between fun and excessively narcissistic content, and nobody has the right solution to shift this trajectory.
Final thoughts
In addition to lifelong friendships and meaningful community, I can thank camp for resetting my relationship with social media. I understand that not everyone has the luxury of spending 7 weeks relatively phone-free, but this summer made me more motivated to try to stick to my screen time limits in my daily life.
While my gripes proved that TikTok isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, there are also numerous undeniable benefits to the way TikTok has stimulated creativity, community, and connection amongst millions of people. Maybe you haven’t even come across any of these things on your FYP, and it is just a testament to my algorithm.
I do think that overall the app should be handled like a wild kitten; fun to hang out with, but should probably be kept at arm’s length. Maintaining a more detached relationship with social media is certainly an uphill battle, and while I can’t avoid the apps entirely, poking fun at their weird aspects can serve as a good reminder to avoid getting wrapped up again. Stay tuned for my success.
Great write-up, I'm encouraged to hear your re-evaluation of social media. For myself at least, the addictive-nature of tik tok doesn't really make a lot of sense to me... In one way I understand how such short-form content can be stimulating to our brains. But on that end, they (big tech companies) have really(!) fleeced us of our time if we can be hardwired to watching endless content like that for hours on end! I don't believe social media is the problem in itself, but what it's turned into now is most certainly a problem. Like you said, the line is quite thin between posting about yourself for fun and for attention. And I am not sure where our society goes from here w/social media.