Why Do People Pretend Social Media is Normal?
A reflection on loneliness, control, and the cost of living through a screen.
We’ve all accepted something so strange without really questioning it.
Having a social media presence isn’t just expected, it’s considered the default. Not being online on at least one platform is seen as weird, interesting, or even unprofessional. The idea of being invisible feels radical now.
Social media is the #1 way of fostering connection in 2025, but there are so many more layers to this that society is barely beginning to acknowledge.
We all know on some level that there is a real, psychological toll of curating your own life like a museum exhibit. And not enough people are seriously considering that. They brush it off because everyone else does. Ignorance is bliss, I guess.
I’m from the lucky generation that experienced life before social media. If you are too, you remember what it was like before we started checking our feeds first thing in the morning and last thing at night. When we connected with people without seeing a preview of their life, mutual followers, and a profile picture first. When “Instagram stalking” wasn’t a generationally recognized skill.
The Merge of Technology and Connection
It’s honestly wild to me. Yes, the intersection of technology and connection is amazing and wildly advanced in 2025. We use technology to connect with others. But at what point did we stop separating the tool from the result? Why do we rely on technology for connection, and why aren’t we normalizing using it to get back to in-person connection?
I believe that in-person communication is one of the most important things that contributes to mental wellbeing. And when I speak about using technology as a tool to lead to in-person connection, I don’t mean setting dates off of Tinder or going to an event that you saw on Instagram. I mean being intentional about connecting with people in a way that inspires a natural meeting, without trying.
Think about texting your family, or your friends group chat. For most, the goal is to hang out again in real life (that is, if your group actually likes each other). So why are we so comfortable letting “online” relationships stand in for actual ones? Especially if you don’t live far apart. What’s the excuse for not arranging a real moment? And I don’t want to hear that your schedules are busy.
You make time for the people in your life that you care about. Whether that’s your family, your best friends, whoever it may be. And yet, we keep ourselves in these group chats and digital circles, more out of FOMO than desire for connection. Those accounts online are not real relationships. At best, they’re just echoes. And unfortunately, the more we give to them, the less we give to what’s right in front of us.
The Social Media Friend Illusion
Social media has warped our image of friendships and relationships. People are friends for no reason. I see it all the time, I’m sure you do too. People will make ‘fake’ friends that just contribute to their image or make them feel elevated, and keep interacting with them just ‘because’.
The motivating factor here is ego, when it should be connection.
When we were kids in school, if you didn’t like someone, you didn’t speak to them. You had your people, they had theirs. When did we start dissolving that ideal and entertaining people in our lives that we don’t even like? Now, it’s normal to engage with people online that you avoid in real life. What the f*ck is that about? Politeness? Social conditioning?
It’s a constant performance that takes so much energy. And for what?
In my opinion, social media just drains us. In every sense of the word. Yes, it’s nice to connect with others around the world and discover people that you never would have found in-person. And yes, there are some funny-ass people out there. Social media can be entertaining as hell. But this fun distraction gives us so little while taking away so much more. While we scroll, we do so little living. And I hate that.
Think about it, how different would your life really be without these online friends? Yes, maybe you’d feel some loss of connection in some areas. But ask yourself, would this lack of relationship maybe push you to focus on the people that are in front of you, instead of the ones that you talk to through a screen?
Curated Living and Emotional Exhaustion
Our self-esteem and self-confidence started plummeting the day Instagram came out. At least for those of us that remember our lives before it, we can keep those memories to ground us. But not everyone has that crutch. I honestly feel bad for the kids that can’t remember a time without it. Today’s children are growing up with an underlying understanding that they have to look good and post about their lives in order to connect with others. And they won’t ever question that. Why question something that everyone around you does?
I don’t think we’ve seriously considered the effects of this. We’ve all seen movies and TV shows about technological dystopia. But I think we’re a lot closer to those realities than we generally think. Babies, straight out of the womb, have screens in their face. And I’m not saying this as a dig to new, tired parents. I’m just saying that this is our new reality, and if we don’t start normalizing a different attitude to being chronically online, us and our children will suffer.
I don’t remember the exact moment, but there was a switch at some point when getting my photo taken moved from just smiling, to instinctively bringing my hand up to cover my face in some way. And this isn’t just me. People see cameras and will change their whole demeanor. The evolution of living online has taken us away from living in the physical present. And it makes me sad. It makes me so sad to see these beautiful memories being made in real-time, but the only real takeaway for a lot of people is the carousel that they’ll post about it.
Why can’t our memories be just for us?
I wish it was more normalized to just text and call people to connect. I resent liking each other’s pictures, swiping up on stories, and tagging each other. I really do. Our society should not be okay with double tapping as a form of connection. Because this is the lowest-effort thing someone can do, however, it gets so much emphasis in the receiver’s mind.
I’ve seen my friends obsessively refresh their likes and replies on a new post like they’re checking an emergency alert. Think about how much time people spend overanalyzing what they post, putting all of their worth in that moment on the reactions of others. Is that not fucked? Excuse my language, but I don’t know any other way to describe it.
Why is it that women are bending over backwards in the mirror trying to take one perfect photo that less than 1% of the world will see? Why do we care so much about what this fake circle of people think? And what is so hard about introducing yourself in-person, starting there, and then sharing phone numbers to connect when you’re not physically together?
Anxiety, Safety, and the Decline of Spontaneity
People use their screens as a crutch. This is a fact. My brain always turns to questioning when I hear someone say “Phone calls give me anxiety. I prefer texting”. I’ve heard it enough times to get it, but at the same time, it still stuns me. You’re telling me that using your own voice, that you use in everyday life, gives you anxiety?
Why has direct communication become threatening for so many people? I think we have to acknowledge where this common anxiety stems from. And think about the fact that if the crutch of texting never existed, maybe as a society we’d be better at in-person connection.
This all begs the question: Has social media made people scared of in-person interactions? I think the answer is yes, but that’s a truth a lot of people are not ready to admit.
Overall, I believe social media gives us a sense of comfort and control over our lives in a world that is genuinely spinning out. People don’t have their Instagram or TikTok pages “just for them”, as much as they’ll argue it. If you’re curating your online presence to be perceived by others, it is not just for you.
It’s very interesting to me how people feel about their accounts. Whether it’s Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, LinkedIn, or something else (we have so many damn platforms now), there is a sense of pride that a lot of people hold towards how they’ve curated their presence. And I’m not here to take away from others’ pride. But think about how that pride would present if it was actually felt towards your real life, and not just the collection of photos you use to showcase it. Wouldn’t that be so much more fulfilling?
My Experience (or Lack Thereof)
Take it from a person that everyone says should be on social media. Because of my appearance and personality most people are shocked when they find out I don’t have any social presence online at all. It’s hard for people to wrap their heads around because they’re so used to seeing “people like me” as personalities that they look up to online.
I was once asked for my Instagram by a coworker, and upon hearing I don’t have it, their first response was to say “that’s a weird thing to not have”. It really creates a disconnect in people’s minds, and I’m honestly proud of that. If the one thing I do in my life is make people think or question the status-quo, I’m happy.
I’ve been off social media for a few years now, and I can’t imagine ever going back. And if I ever do, a lot of that anxiety and emphasis on other’s thoughts would be gone for me. Deleting my personal pages forced me to seek out real connections that I genuinely enjoy spending my time and energy with. It forced me to be more present in my life than I ever have been, which is a feeling that social media will never be able to properly fulfill.
Also, I wasn’t always like this. I saw the come-up of social media. I made my Instagram, Facebook and Snapchat accounts just like everyone else. I edited 20 versions of the same photo before posting it, previewing how it would align with the rest of my feed, deciding which caption to use, and the best time to post. I spent so much time and energy on this, and yet that was so normal. And I never questioned it.
What got me out of this headspace was forcing myself into situations where I didn’t have the crutch of stalking someone online before having to interact with them in-person. Even that sentence is crazy. But it’s a normal thing to think about nowadays.
Why We Don’t Say Hello Anymore
The truth is, we’re scared to meet people in real life without a preview.
And yes, it's a scary world, especially for women. No one’s denying the reality of danger. But something else is happening here too. We’ve gone from cautious to avoidant. And now that fear shows up in places it shouldn’t, like classrooms, cafés, and office breakrooms. Places where presence used to be enough.
We’ve normalized never speaking first. We assume everyone’s nervous, busy, uninterested, or worse: watching us. The thought of saying “hi” to a stranger feels radical now. Social anxiety is everywhere. And while I wish I could snap my fingers and make it disappear, I know it’s not that simple. We’ve made silence feel safer than vulnerability. And trust me, that has a cost.
Because if we can’t say hello to someone without a mutual follower to vouch for them, what does that say about how we connect? We’re performing safety, but losing presence. We’re exposed online but guarded in-person.
We’re bleeding out in both.
People chase followers like they’re real-life friends. But when it comes to actually making those friends in real life, we shut down. We forgot how to value depth. Somewhere along the way, volume replaced intimacy. And the illusion of “connection” became easier to tolerate than the real thing.
I know people who would rather open their DMs than their mouths. Who would rather get 200 likes than sit across from one person and say, “This is who I am.” And I don’t think they realize what they’re giving up.
Because one real connection, that one person who sees you without needing a filter or a username, will always mean more than any number of likes ever could.
It’s a hard truth to admit because we’re so conditioned to put some of our worth on how many connections or followers we have online. Maybe because our digital reach is visible, and our real relationships can go unseen. The question is, why do we even care?
Remembering How to Be Real
I don’t think we’ve fully processed what it’s done to us - this slow, collective shift away from each other. From ourselves. From being seen in-person, unedited, un-curated, and unsure.
We’ve learned how to polish. To rehearse our answers. To crop the mess out of the frame. But have we learned how to show up? Not to impress, but just to be?
There’s a difference between connecting and collecting.
There’s a difference between being known and being followed.
There’s a difference between being watched and being loved.
I don’t need a return to the past. I’m not being nostalgic. I’m just… paying attention.
And if there’s one thing I want more of, for myself, for you, for all of us, it’s the courage to connect without needing a preview. To look up. To look around. To remember that the real world still exists.
If you made it to the end of this rant (thank you), and there’s one takeaway you bring with you after, please let it be this.
Real life should never need likes and saves to be worth remembering.
Social media is not normal. And I wish more than anything that it didn’t hold such a big place in all of our lives.