BEFORE I discovered Poptropica and the other wonders of the web, I used to read the newspaper every afternoon. I used to build Lego houses and cut up magazines to make collages. I used to make popsicles and fly kites and go on bike rides. I used to carry myself with confidence and proclaim my contentment.

I used to pride myself in being unchanging, but earlier this year I looked in the mirror and realized I didn’t recognize myself. Somewhere in the last 10 years, I had shed the relatively carefree child and become someone who couldn’t go to sleep without a 30 minute scroll through her feed. 

While social media started out as a place where I could express and entertain myself, it was only recently that I realized just how much it had affected my personality, values, and lifestyle over time.

I was suddenly consumed by longing for the girl that I was—and so in a last-ditch effort to be my old self again, I went on a social media cleanse.

I started deleting apps, believing that each removal was a step towards regaining my inner peace. Apart from keeping up with schoolwork-related groups and posting necessary updates, I kept offline for the better part of two months.

With my newfound free time, I was able to rediscover old hobbies and try my hand at other activities I had been putting off for so long. Best of all, I was able to enjoy being in the moment without feeling the need to post a story or tell a friend about it.

It sounds lovely, and I’ll admit that these parts were. In truth, though, I spent most of the social media cleanse having an absolutely terrible time. I spent the first few weeks racked with worry. After years of being in constant communication with others, I was crippled with fear of missing out.

Determined to see my cleanse through, I forced myself to embrace my detachment from the rest of the world. However, as soon as I got over this initial fear, I started to grow increasingly dependent on the social media break in the same way I used to depend on social media. Instead of dreading being left out, I began to dread having to return.

Throughout this two-month period, I kept waiting—waiting for my inner child to return, waiting to wake up one morning and be carefree again. Weeks passed before I finally acknowledged that though there are people who have found themselves by taking a break from social media; I probably wasn’t going to be one of them. 

Even after I gathered the energy to return to my life as it was resumed, I continued to feel a nagging dissatisfaction with the way my cleanse panned out. In the process of trying to reclaim my old self, I had managed to stray even further from who I used to be.

After months of reflecting on the disappointment that was my social media cleanse, I’m ready to admit that it failed miserably because I did it for the wrong reasons.

I expected the social media cleanse to solve all my problems, but I know now that it can’t do that. It can only give me the time to reflect on my issues and the space to work on resolving them. Not knowing this, I spent the detox cramming my mind with books, hobbies, and conversations with family members so I didn’t have to be alone with my thoughts.

In hindsight, I should have been more realistic with what I wanted to get out of this experience. The least I could have done was to have a feasible goal and time frame in mind. Instead, I chucked all my apps out the window and hoped for the best. 

Most importantly, I should have recognized that it’s not completely social media’s fault that I’ve changed; it’s also anything and everything that has happened to me in the last decade.

I hoped that removing myself from social media would bring my old self back, but it only highlighted the fact that this version of me was gone long ago. Now that I’ve accepted the failure of my cleanse, I’ve decided that it’s also time I accept the loss of my former self, and move on to better things—both on and offline.