The Dissertation Diaries

This past week, my sister text me to ask a question about a birthday and stated she couldn’t look at Facebook (which she would have done to double check) because she deleted hers.

I found myself jealous. Then, I realized that meant it was time to be done with Facebook.

There’s a quiet moment that happens before you hit deactivate.

It’s not anger, and it’s not fear, it’s a deep exhale. The realization that a space that once inspired you now leaves you feeling heavy, drained, or simply disconnected.

I woke up after a LONG week and decided it was time to let go of that social media site.

We don’t talk enough about this. The right to outgrow digital spaces. Years ago, when I deleted my Twitter presence and large following, I thought I’d feel a sense of loss, but I was so relieved. I didn’t realize that I didn’t actually like being there until it was gone.

Social media can be powerful: it connects, amplifies, and builds communities. But sometimes, those same spaces start to feel like an echo chamber, a pressure cooker, or a place where you no longer recognize your own voice. Maybe the algorithm changed. Maybe you did. Either way, it’s okay to leave the room.

It’s Not Failure — It’s Freedom

Deactivating an account doesn’t mean you’ve “given up.” It means you’ve chosen to redirect your attention toward the parts of your life that feel more authentic, peaceful, or productive.

It’s the digital equivalent of cleaning out a closet , clearing space for something new.

You get to decide when a platform no longer aligns with your values, mental health, or goals. You get to decide that scrolling through filtered versions of success isn’t serving your well-being or creativity.

Ask Yourself:

• Does this space still reflect who I am or who I’m becoming?
• Do I feel energized or depleted when I leave?
• What would happen if I stepped away for a week? A month?

If the honest answer leads you toward distance, take it. That’s not avoidance, that’s discernment.

The Power of Logging Off

Sometimes the best way to reconnect is to disconnect.

When you leave spaces that no longer nurture you, you create room for ones that do — real conversations, creative projects, quiet reflection, or simple rest.

It’s also a great time to do some real writing for your dissertation.

You don’t owe anyone an explanation for reclaiming your peace.

You’re allowed to walk away without announcing your departure. You’re allowed to build something new in private. You’re allowed to choose presence over performance.

A Gentle Reminder

You’re not disappearing. You’re realigning.

And sometimes the most courageous thing you can do in a noisy world is to step away, to listen for your own voice again and to trust that peace is reason enough.