Skip to main content

I Guess This Is Where I Live Online Now

I deleted my Twitter account today, and this time, I hope it’s for good.

I’ve been struggling with my Twitter habit? addiction? obsession? for a while now. When I first joined the bird app back in 2017, it felt like a pretty great place to be. I quickly found my way into the personal finance community, a community that enthusiastically cheered on my family as we blogged about reducing our debt. I made real friends, and we made real financial progress.

Lately, though, Twitter feels like The Bad Place. Scrolling for more than five minutes leaves me with the queasy sense that we’re all doomed and that also, I’m a loser, baby. Professionally? I suck. Financially? I’m screwed. Personally? I’m meh at best. 

When was the last time I felt GOOD after closing my social media apps? Not in recent memory. And yet somehow I keep coming back.

I was blaming myself for all this until my son reminded me that the modern purpose of social media is to manipulate us, including our worldview and our sense of self and what we value. Twitter, Facebook, Insta, etc. - they’re all in the business of taking our data and then using it against us, making us dependent on them and prone to whatever messages they're putting on blast.

Sharing anything on Twitter these days seems fraught. I’ve learned the hard way that even the most innocent, innocuous post can prompt a heated discussion and/or judgment. I can say I don’t care, but when I’ve posted something that means something to me - whether it’s about our finances, or my family, or my mental health, or my goals - the fact is, I do care about the responses, and it does hurt to be judged and ridiculed.

People have suggested various strategies for working around the Twitter negativity. But no matter how hard I’ve tried, I can’t find a way to refine my timeline so that I only see posts from my friends. Even curated lists are porous, thanks to the inability to turn off retweets. 

It’s almost like Twitter WANTS me to feel terrible, and yet that doesn't dissuade me from logging in a million times a day.

Last summer I stopped drinking alcohol. That was challenging, but after a couple of weeks, my sobriety gained momentum and I began to coast -- especially once I realized how much better I felt, both mentally and physically.

After the 2016 election, I ditched Facebook. There again, leaving was tough, but once I had some distance from it, I was relieved to have walked away.

Giving up Twitter feels way more difficult: I’ve tried to do it multiple times and I always end up going back.

But not now. 

Instead, even though blogs are supposedly dead, I’ll post here, and I’ll keep up with and comment on the posts of my many beloved personal finance buddies who, thankfully, are still blogging. 

Things change. Twitter used to be a healthy place for me. Now it’s not, and it’s time to leave.


  1. I completely understand. And also, I miss ya!

    1. Thank you, and I definitely miss you as well!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

So After Five Years, THIS Happened:

Something big happened earlier in October and I wanted to share it here, especially for those who've stuck around since the summer of 2017 when we started this journey : That right there is our student loan balance. Let's take a closer look: And please note that it is now ZEROOOOOOOOOOOOO. (Okay, actually -$1.02, and Mohela says they will be sending us a refund check for that amount. Whatever will we DO with our newfound fortune) That's right. The student loan that has clung to us like an ultra-persistent leech for the past 20 years is gone. What's more, we are finally, FINALLY [[[Drum rolllllllllllll]]] DEBT FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. Here's a graph of our debt payoff in the context of big life events such as medical emergencies, job changes (including my Big Quit back in April 2019 ), and a global pandemic. The x-axis represents month/year (with June and December shown). The y-axis represents total debt in thousands of dollars: Five years, people! FIVE! That's a

June Wasn't A Good Month.

The mountain vacation I'd been planning and looking forward to for months and months was a total bust. The hotel -- which has received rave reviews in the past -- turned out to be a dump with paper-thin walls, a broken mirror, holes in the ceiling, and dead bugs in random places. The forest was closed due to fire restrictions, so we couldn't hike; even if it had been open, it rained the entire time.  We came home three days early. The hotel refunded $250 of the $1400 we paid when we reserved our suite. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that we threw >$1K down the drain. I went to see my doctor, whom I have known for more than five years, about irregular bleeding that was freaking me out. She spoke with me for 30 seconds and then dumped me on her trainee, a dude who looked to be approximately 25 years old. He asked me some questions about my period and then ordered some blood tests; this would have been okay (albeit better as a telehealth visit) except that neither

Work: Caring Less Until They Let Me Care More

I've been at my current company for more than 1.5 years. It's a record for me. In the past, I've lasted a year on average before calling it quits for one reason or another (documented extensively in my posts tagged as "work"). My current job isn't exactly a passion of mine. I took it because it was the only thing I could get at the end of 2020, when the job market was still in pretty rough shape thanks to the pandemic. It's dull. Most of the time I feel like Helly in the show  Severance  as she slouches at her computer and drops numbers into bins for eight hours a day for reasons unbeknownst to anyone but the powers that be.  I made it through my first year at my company as an underpaid customer service rep mostly because I had a supportive boss and collaborative teammates. Last December, after a frustrating negotiation in which it was made clear to me that I am a mere cog in the giant company wheel, I was promoted to a new (but still tedious) role with a