Why I Deleted Social Media

A few weeks ago, I caught myself doing something I’ve done a thousand times before, scrolling.
Not mindlessly, but not meaningfully either.

Even though I follow less than 300 people, I’d finish answering DMs or checking notifications and feel anxious. My to-do list still sat there, my bread dough wasn’t rising, and the things that actually bring me joy, baking, creating, being outside, had quietly taken a backseat to a glowing little screen in my hand.

The weekend before my break, I was at a women’s conference at our church. The speaker talked about holding up an invisible cup and how she hoped we’d leave that weekend with our cups completely full. That simple visual stuck with me.

So I started thinking about my cup, what I pour into it every day, and what I let drain it.
And if I’m honest, social media was at the top of that list.

I’ve never logged off an app feeling fulfilled. Not by a long shot.

“Have You Lost Your Mind?”

When I told people I was deleting social media, most of them looked at me like I’d officially lost it.
Because let’s be real, we live in a world that tells us if we’re not online, we don’t exist.

And if you’re a small business owner, the pressure runs even deeper.
You’re told you have to post every day, dance for the algorithm, and basically become a full-time content creator just to stay relevant.

Some people even told me, “This is how you kill your business.”

But here’s the thing, I didn’t start my business so some random internet “guru” could tell me I have to stare at my phone and shake my butt in my studio to get people to care.

I started HorseFeathers Gifts to create meaningful things, to bring color, beauty, and purpose into everyday life.

So yes, stepping away from social media was partly a mental health choice. But it was also a test.

Would people still show up?
Would they open my emails?
Would they read my blog posts and know I’m still here?
Would they share my work because they love it, not because the algorithm said so?

Only time will tell, but I’m betting on connection over content.

What I Noticed When I Logged Off

Two weeks into my break, our family took a trip to Clearwater Beach, Florida.
And I noticed something I couldn’t unsee.

Beautiful surroundings. People I’m sure they love.
And yet, everyone’s face was buried in a phone.

Kids building sandcastles, calling for their parents to look, their little voices barely pulling eyes away from screens.
Couples sitting side by side, ocean waves in front of them, scrolling instead of speaking.

It made me incredibly grateful for my decision to dumb down my phone.

Sterling and I spent hours each morning collecting seashells.
As a family, we played catch in the ocean, and before long, a few kids we didn’t even know joined in, clearly craving the same kind of attention.
We played tic-tac-toe on napkins at dinner. We talked. We laughed.
And I didn’t miss notifications one bit.

The Sunrise That Said It All

On our very last morning, we went for a sunrise walk. We grabbed coffees, headed out from the hotel, and walked down to the marina to watch the sun come up.

There was a couple nearby, probably in their late 50s or early 60s, sitting in their car waiting for the sunrise. But instead of waiting and watching together, they both stared down at their phones.

I pointed it out to my husband, and it stopped me in my tracks.

I thought about how many relationships are struggling right now, how high the divorce rate is, and how easy it is to believe that there’s always something, or someone, better out there.

But this isn’t how our grandparents lived.
And honestly, it’s not how we’re meant to live either.

Relationships thrive when we create conversation, when we share small, meaningful moments, and when we’re fully present.

Imagine the difference between sitting in that same car, phones down, hands wrapped around warm coffee cups, talking about your day, the view, the manatees you might spot in the water.

The funny thing is, they were parked right where the manatees were swimming. They wouldn’t have noticed if one jumped out and did a full front flip across the hood of their car.

It’s the difference between posting the moment and living the moment.

That morning, I realized this isn’t just about social media, it’s about awareness. About how easily we trade real connection for digital noise, and how much better life feels when you choose to actually be in it.

I’ve always believed this, but I think I finally convinced myself that it’s not just a feeling, it’s a truth.
And I’m so thankful I made the change for myself and my family.

What I Found Instead

By the end of that first week, I realized I wasn’t just less anxious, I was peaceful.
My mind was quiet. My home was lighter. My time was actually mine.

I perfected my at-home iced latte recipe.
I baked six loaves of bread on a Sunday afternoon and surprised my neighbors.
I started walking more, 13,000 steps a day, just by being outside on the farm.
And yes, my laundry is always done now (still a shocker).

At first, it felt strange. I’d reach for my phone out of habit, only to remember the apps were gone.
So I’d text a friend instead. Check in. Reconnect.

And something shifted.

I started coloring again. Trying new recipes. Creating for joy, not for content.
In the studio, I turn on my playlist (you can listen here) and just create. No agenda, no “I should post this later.”

My creativity came back. My peace followed.

A Gentle Challenge for You

If you’ve been feeling drained, distracted, or like your time is constantly slipping away, I get it.
We can’t buy more time, but we can choose how we spend it.

So here’s my challenge for you.
Tonight, put your phone in another room or on Do Not Disturb for an hour.
Be fully present with the people around you.

Tomorrow, take a look at your cup.
What’s filling it?
What’s quietly emptying it?
And what could you release, even just for a week, to make space for more peace?

You might just find, like I did, that you don’t miss it.
Not even a little.

This was only the beginning for me.
More changes are coming, but this one has already reshaped everything.

Here’s to slower mornings, fuller hearts, and seriously dumb phones.

💛
Chelsea