A brief reflection of my relationship with social networks
I'd like to briefly reflect on my use of social networks in relation to my confidence and the general context of my life. For me, social networks come in just a very limited set of flavors. I'll dissect my use of each of them from a personal perspective.
I first created my Facebook account as a teenager in high school. I used it for years mostly to interact with friends and store photos from field trips and different events I attended. I wasn't very active on this social network, as most of my interactions happened on Messenger (or the equivalent at that time), not on groups or walls (except for birthday wishes). I deleted my Facebook account, I suspect, around 2017. I don't recall having disabled my account before—I just went offline at that point.
Disabling my Facebook account marked my emigration to the US from Colombia. It also marked a point where I was conflicted about emotional relationships that turned out to be wearing me down completely. I was looking to take a break, and leaving Facebook helped a lot. Even though I was never asked to take posts down, the photos and the general knowledge of the direct effects of people's posts and updates on my wellbeing made me decide to remove myself from this social network.
I didn't gain much from using Facebook since communication was primarily in person with friends and family, and WhatsApp was just another viable option. I didn't depend on Facebook for communication, even when I left Colombia. When I closed my Facebook, I wasn't conscious of privacy concerns or major social issues that were influenced through this social network. At that age, I was focused on interactions with friends, family, and acquaintances, disregarding the multiple layers of complexity that exist throughout Facebook. The last photo I used as a banner on my Facebook profile made me realize two things: first, that I wasn't in a situation where I felt safe as a person; second, that interactions through Facebook weren't going to lead to more positive outcomes for my life.
I closed my account and never looked back. My use of this social network was mostly focused on keeping connections around, not on effectively interacting with anyone new.
This has been my primary way of communicating with friends, family, and acquaintances for decades. I estimate that my first account was created in 2011, while I was in Colombia. In fact, I recall buying a phone through a small loan directly offered by the service provider. That was a mistake I learned from, as my credit score in Colombia plunged quickly because I wasn't able to keep up with monthly payments.
Since most of my close friends and family can only be reached through WhatsApp, deleting my account has never been an option. I've tried to switch from WhatsApp to Telegram, with extremely poor results. Family and friends either don't migrate or never check their Telegram accounts. It's been frustrating but also a learning experience, as most of them use WhatsApp for personal communication and even for their jobs. Leaving WhatsApp has proved to be equivalent to choosing between being almost in isolation or having so many people around. As of today, leaving WhatsApp isn't an option regardless of how I feel politically about Meta, or how much I'd like to avoid conversations with particular people (e.g., through group chats).
Instagram has been more optional as a social network relative to WhatsApp. I've had two accounts in my life. Each of these accounts has remained private for the entirety of their use, primarily used to share posts (mainly with the first account). From what I remember, I created my first account in the mid-2010s. Everything was going well—I posted about personal travel, my family, and friends very often. However, I decided to delete this account in 2019 as I wasn't active enough and Meta/Facebook was not one of my favorite companies at that point.
I created a second account in 2022 when I came to peace with the company. I started to gain confidence and felt ready to reconnect with friends and relatives. I was able to find most of the people I felt connected to through Instagram. Many of these friends are folks I simply don't talk to elsewhere, but whom I enjoy seeing their updates (stories) once in a while.
I kept that account open until early 2025, when I felt pressured to put on a shell and isolate myself due to self-shaming—an aspect I might to talk about in another post. I've always had around 150 followers and have kept only the people I honestly interact with. Instagram, from my perspective at this point, has been a place where I go to see my friends' and family's updates, where I avoid reels and advertisements, but where sometimes the effects of temporary insecurities surface.
One last aspect that suddenly came to mind relates to the weaponization of Instagram in personal relationships. Not only is the need to close Instagram relevant in this context (e.g., to avoid being shamed), but Instagram has also been a lens through which to understand how people behave over time—to see how variable people's perceptions of others' value adjusts over time. This is especially interesting in situations when Instagram works as a snapshot of people's lives or when someone forgets to delete an old public account that recorded a fraction of their life.
At some point, I had more than 5,000 followers on Twitter. I was mildly popular—my posts always took off. I would tweet, and people would respond. I would comment, and people would comment back. I used to get tagged everywhere and had so many notifications that I wasn't able to handle them. All that "fame" came during a time when I felt supported and happy, when I felt my career was taking off and I was surrounded by wonderful people who wanted the best for me.
During a fraction of that time (2022–2023), I went down a couple of painful rabbit holes. First, a job-related circumstance made me resign from a position. A post I made, marginally related to the situation, blew up. My DMs and comments were full of either very strong complaints from people with significant power, or support from people who had gone through similar situations. Second, my curiosity led to learning new information about the people around me—information that I didn't understand at the moment but that had long-term consequences on how much trust I placed in other people. It also affected my confidence.
For nearly a year, I wasn't able to open Twitter without feeling anxious about the DMs I kept receiving, but also about remembering that information that was never disclosed to me at a personal level. I decided to delete Twitter for good in 2023, mainly due to political differences with the new owner. However, going away from Twitter also helped me heal a bit and increased my confidence.
Something I always thought was contrasting about Twitter was that I could have been Twitter famous (at least academically), but still none of that mattered when I felt I was being mistreated in different personal situations. All that kept me humble for way longer than I can imagine.