Dear Digital Diary

Dear Digital Diary,

I think I’m addicted to social media.

Or rather, I’m addicted to sharing my life on social media like it’s my own personal diary. Like it doesn’t get published to be viewed by millions of public users, just like myself. The concept of a private account was completely washed when I turned eighteen and my private Instagram was changed to public, per my recent adulthood and the extinguished parental control over my life. 

At that time I also downloaded TikTok, as did most of the world around the time of COVID (even though it was five years ago now, I refer to this time as though it were yesterday). And the thing about TikTok is that, if you learn the algorithm, it’s easy to go viral. 

And there’s something oh so therapeutic about posting a video about my singleness, or my new boyfriend, or art school, or financial struggles, etc, etc — basically all things that the public shouldn’t care about. But then having the video go viral because half a million people relate to the fact that dating in your twenties is difficult or all coming to the consensus that there’s a serious decline in the quality of pop music gives me that boost of dopamine that a martini doesn’t even compare to. 

However, like any addiction, I didn’t see that I was an addict.

“Oh yeah, I saw that on your TikTok,” my sister told me. “I saw that before you even said anything.”

Okay, woah. 

That was a shock. Apparently I’d tell stories or share information to randos on social media (most of which are bots, I’m sure) than actually sharing these stories or information to the real people in my life. 

That’s when I knew I had to quit. 

But it’s not cold turkey, of course. That never works. 

See, just this past May, I graduated from Savannah College of Art and Design with a degree in writing. At my core, I’m a storyteller, a journalist, a sharer of thoughts, a reader and writer of words. Sharing my thoughts and opinions and stories is what I do. But I shouldn’t be doing that on my social media.

And come to think of it, I should probably just keep writing in my journal. 

But alas, at 22, my brain hasn’t quite developed to its greatest extent just yet. And so begins the blog. 

My thoughts and thinkings, unfiltered, about my stories and experiences in the twenty-first century. 

Don’t worry — I’m still writing my book. 

But for now, welcome to Mia Pratt Goulder’s Digital Diary. 

– Mia