#ratedahrt

When you begin to realize the amount of things that could be done in the minutes you spend scrolling mindlessly on Twitter or viewing your friends’ and celebrities’ Instagram stories, you start to question if what you’re really doing with your spare time is good for you. And so, you begin searching for alternatives.

On taking that first step.

Not much people talk about what happens when you begin the journey of a social media detox, like the time you spend sitting with yourself after hitting the delete button, wondering how to turn yourself into that productive member of society you had envisioned in your head. And as someone that went through the exact same thing, I can assure you: it is completely normal. It’s perfectly fine to want to get back to the comfortable routine of opening Facebook, then Twitter, then Instagram until it’s a hole you find difficult to get yourself out of, only to find yourself on your fifth straight Youtube video.

It’s hard to steer yourself away from things that have already begun to be considered normal and acceptable for you and everyone else, even when you know it isn’t doing you any good anymore (this applies to situations offline, too). But that’s why it’s even more important to take this first step and attempt to distance yourself from these types of things.

This isn’t goodbye.

Here’s the secret behind social media detoxing that needs to be said out loud: digital minimalism does not necessarily mean completely eradicating it from your life; it’s learning how to control the way you use what you’ve so conveniently been given to make sure that it isn’t controlling you. When you find yourself unable to prioritize other things because you cannot put your phone down, it might be time for you to develop what is commonly called digital discipline.

Sometimes, digital discipline simply means setting your phone on “Do Not Disturb” while you study or write a paper, or just want to be alone and undisturbed. It could mean permanently turning off your push notifications to stop that habit of constantly checking your phone for a text or a reply to that Tweet you cared so much about.

To detox is to remove whatever it is you found toxic from your life, whether referring to your immediate surroundings or the digital space. So, maybe instead of using social media to view the stories of people you don’t really like anyway, use your platforms to benefit you. Follow your favorite artists, athletes, scientists—people who inspire you. Or, explore other platforms forms of social media that could provide inspiration instead of gossip, generate ideas instead of fill you with complaints.

As I slowly learned to do this over the weeks I spent trying to renew the way I used social media, I began to actively use my social media accounts and channels for things I deeply cared about or even exploring new things I would learn to love, like watching Yes Theory change the world with a bunch of other creative content creators, learning more about things like astrology or the way the brain works with Vox’s 20-minute, graphically extravagant episodes on Netflix, listening to podcasts about love and life as I cleaned my room, or even just browsing Spotify discovering new music to add to my endless list of favorites.

In the moments I found myself falling in love again with the way it felt to intentionally learn things that were always just at my fingertip’s reach, I began to see the beautiful side to the internet and social media. I was reminded of the belief that its power can change the world. Use the unlimited freedom of social media to get to know yourself more. There is so much to learn if you look in the right places; social media isn’t exactly your enemy unless you make it out to be. Just like what you should do offline: keep only what you know can serve you better.

What takes a long time to understand, though, is that they are not mutually exclusive. Loneliness could be felt even in a room full of people you’ve known your entire life, in the form a wave of loneliness crashing upon you as you realize you aren’t exactly where you want to be. On the other hand, it is possible to feel loved even as you lay by yourself in bed at night after you made the conscious decision to spend time by yourself instead of going out with your friends.

While it may sound like a scary thing, giving ourselves the space to be alone can be one of the most beautiful things we can give to ourselves. Being comfortable with being alone could help in our long and winding journey towards self-love and maturity.

Loneliness is necessary in order for self-love to take place.

When we begin to see the comfort there is in being alone, we begin to find the beauty there is in ourselves. We begin the journey towards the thinking: I am content and happy with myself. Every day we are surrounded by people who have so much to say and so much to offer to the world and whether we want to admit it or not, it can get tiring. There’s always a facade to maintain, people you want to impress or whose opinions you care about. Only recently have I discovered that it is essential to set aside time for ourselves as much as we set aside time for others—because in the space we allow ourselves to be alone, we allow ourselves to face what we’ve been putting off in the back of our minds. We give ourselves space to really think about who we are and what we are capable of as individuals, without the noise of other people’s opinion and expectations.

There is so much power in solitude that giving this chance to ourselves can change the way we look at life, other people, and even ourselves, entirely. It’s true what they tell you: that mastering self-love isn’t something that just happens overnight (some might even argue that it is a never ending process of learning). But even if it is the longest journey we find ourselves on, even if our minds get tired of analyzing and questioning the same things over and over again, it is necessary and fulfilling when we finally begin to realize that there will be moments that we will be by ourselves, and that these will also be the moments in which we realize that who we are is enough.

Being comfortable with being alone is a sign of personal growth and emotional maturity.

When you are alone, you allow yourself and your feelings the space and opportunity to progress. You reach a certain level of emotional maturity, and maybe even intelligence, when you are able to acknowledge how you feel, why you feel it, what you need to do about why you feel that way. Understanding these emotions and our responsibility on what we decide to do about it will ultimately result into our better understanding of ourselves. There is a weight you don’t even realize you’re carrying when you are so preoccupied trying to seem as if you don’t care, because whether we acknowledge it or not, we are so busy trying to come off as unbothered that we don’t realize the toxicity we bring ourselves when we are desperately trying to seem as if we don’t care. Because we all do. It’s in our nature, we were born to connect and to feel and to make ourselves and others feel alive, to feel like we belong here; and the more we realize that, the more we actively try to do something about it, then maybe, just maybe, those tough conversations we’re always dreading to have won’t have to be so tough at all.

There is strength that only we can find by ourselves in our own solidarity, the strength only self-love and emotional maturity can bring. The world can seem a little less scary – and maybe even lighter – when we are comforted by our own presence. We have to able to face our own snarky thoughts, to find the courage to ask ourselves why we think the way we think and why we see things the way we do; because if we don’t first, then who will? There is no one more important to be in touch with than ourselves, because even if you may hear this time and time again, you control your entire life – the way you feel about things, your relationships and the people you surround yourself with. So the next time you find yourself wanting to distract yourself from the many questions your mind has been begging you to face, or when you find yourself needing to have any form of background noise to keep you from avoiding what your thoughts are bothering you about – know that perhaps behind those hard-to-answer questions and those difficult emotions lies an answer you never knew you needed.

Think of the hardest life experience you’ve ever hard to live through – the exact moment you found yourself thrown into a room made of four walls with no way out except to sit in your own silence, with your never-ending questions and surprisingly, tears. So many tears you didn’t think were humanly possible. And then think of how you got through it, the day you realized you were finally getting better and seeing clearer, the day you realized this was going to be a story worth telling. What, other than you, helped you get through it?

When I think of the role music plays in my life, I first think of that particular situation I’ve been droning on and on about, and how I had never felt so powerless as the time I realized there was nothing I could do except accept what life decided put me through. I remember realizing there was no way out except to get through it, even if I didn’t want to; I remember feeling my heart physically hurt and the soreness of my eyes as I lived through every day. And then I think of the countless songs that became the antidotes to that part of my life, the relief I felt when I felt my heart healing to the rhythm of albums like Lorde’s Melodrama playing in my mind, or Rex Orange County telling me that loving is easy. Maybe it was the pain that was constantly demanding to be felt, the determined path to healing, or maybe it was the undeniable feel good sound of the way those drums went with the bass. Maybe it was all those elements put together. Either way, the artists in this playlist-turned-antidote will forever hold a spot in my heart – a spot so solid that as soon as these songs play, I am instantly reminded of the nights I spent crying on my bedroom floor, trying my hardest to calm myself down with the sound of these songs that unintentionally became the background music of the hardest point in my life, and how even after all that, I managed to live.

I remember the satisfying, beautiful reoccurring moments I found my answer to the question: “Am I ever going to get through this?” in between the lyrics of my favorite song. It could be in the hustle of public transport, with strangers surrounding me and the sun glaring at my back, and even though my current circumstances weren’t looking so great, with a good song like “Stay” by Mac Ayres blasting from my earphones I decided I was okay, simply because this song was playing. Or it could be alone in my bedroom, trying desperately to feel okay again, and then a beautiful song plays, and my heart begins to flutter.

Another one of my favorite moments, though, is when I am on my short walk home and the sunset is the first to welcome me back. All that natural beauty combined with my favorite song rests every last ounce of my soul, no matter how bad my day could have been.

Moments like these are moments that make my favorite music so unforgettable, so significantly beautiful that I believe I can tell anyone— from my closest friend to a complete stranger—that if you are under the impression that you have lost your soul, you just might be able to find it in between the lyrics of a good song.