the day i quit tiktok was the day i discovered the concept of free time…until instagram reels quickly caught on.
i’ve been trying, for the past few weeks, to figure out exactly when i became infatuated with reels. about when i started spending the dark AMs bathed in a cacophony of iphone colors. about when the reels warmed my cold bedsheets, entertained me in my boredom, distracted me in my sorrow.
an old classmate once said that she preferred scrolling through tiktok to her friends’ instagram posts because tiktok “constantly surprised” her. with tiktok, she could watch a golden retriever get a blowout and learn a new sheet pan recipe from a hip southern grandmother and witness neymar playing poker while singing ‘happy birthday’ to his daughter, all in a span of two minutes, all in one sitting, all in stillness except the flick of her thumb.
note: i will largely be referring to content in the vertical video format as “instagram reels,” but you smart cookies can definitely apply the concept to tiktok or youtube shorts or whatever else floats your boat (looking at you, facebook video!)
the explosion of tiktok during covid seems to be the turning point the concept of social media: what was once a tool for looking through the facade of your friends’ lives suddenly doubled as a search engine—with intelligent discernment, of course. as a serial hobbyist, i tend to look to content creators for writing prompts or crochet patterns or career tips.
commenting on the comments
whether it is checking in on old friends or keeping up with reels—i always head for the comments, which are a huge part of the scrolling experience.
sometimes you watch content to see how people are reacting to them (e.g., pookie and jett, tony p in dc). sometimes you give the funny ones a like. sometimes you cringe at the mean ones, thinking how you would feel if someone left a comment like that on your posts. and then you move on to the next reel, or the next post, or—if you’re strong enough—close the app entirely.
a question i always catch myself asking when i’m scrolling is, who are these people in the comments? what prompts someone to leave a public, sometimes vulnerable, note for the entire world to permanently see and judge?
don’t get me wrong: i’m not a comment hater. comments are great engagement tools for content creators; it’s a personalized like button, sort of like a handwritten note from a stranger. and since i’m a writer, a.k.a. a natural sucker for handwritten notes, i take the time to comment on my friends’ posts—their quarterly compilations, life milestones, fit checks—but never on content meant for the public eye.
i think about this a lot, about how the new age of social media expects us to anticipate how people will react. i grew up in an environment where i was already cognizant about public perception, so the thought of leaving a public imprint on my private activities (a.k.a. my doom scrolling) is terrifying to me, let alone putting my wild, wild thoughts out there for the world to see and judge.
a deep dive with my social media lurker hat 🕵️♀️
if you’re a loyal subscriber, then you know that i am an excellent private eye, so for you, today, i’m putting on this hat to show you my findings.
look at this prank titled getting a chinese translator for no reason. of the 9.8 million people that have seen this, over 1,700 have decided to comment.
first let’s lurk on the most liked comments, since they tend to be the funniest, and break down exactly who these commenters are.
disclaimer: all the information below was readily available online, i did not talk to their friends or anything stalker-y like that :)
“Thats not translating, thats encrypting💀😭” —@siekmanmax (135K)
is a german flirt with a box haircut, an audi, and thirst trap captions like “take your time to come to me” and “bottoms up, when i first met you #audi90 #audi”
“Asian guy couldn’t hold it in 😂” —@ephrimvidz (50.5K)
is a seattle based asian guy with a wedding video business. he makes christian memes on reels, two of which have gone viral and were liked by my 16-year-old cousin in jakarta
“This shit got me so dead” —@kapalottt (36K)
is really into carpentry and smoking, and goes by “godspeed bandz” which i pray isn’t his real name
“It makes this so much better when you understand both mandarin and English LOL” —@vic__mo (27.6K)
is an aviation geek based in ontario. he posts so many photos in cockpits i assumed he was a pilot, but it turns out he only works in sales
“bro cant stop laughing 😂😂😂😂” —@oisarupy (24.7K)
is a software analyst based in salvador who wears glasses
but what about the rest of the 1,700 commenters that have lacked traction, just like @lahcen_bouali who decided to ask, “is there something funny about this?” (23)? because if @lahcen_bouali doesn’t think this prank is funny, then his humor has to be more elite than us common folk!
what are you like, @lahcen_bouali? 🔍
he has 14.7K followers but only <150 likes per post, which just means that he needs to post better content
he is a sales associate for a luxury brand in doha, and has been doing luxury goods sales for about 10 years
his job allowed him to meet post malone and three real madrid players in a suit and a bright red tie
the time of his life was watching his home country morocco play in the 2022 world cup, but that’s a fair bucket list item and i’m a little jealous
he reposted a reel about how women should run if a guy has more than 2 phones, and filmed himself counting his 3 (!!!) phones, which leads me to assume that he’s single
you have just witnessed what goes through my head when i lurk on social media. as i now feel pretty naked, let me put on my clothes for this next part.
from my own experience and research and careful observation, i’ve learned that people comment when they are motivated by opinions, emotions, or attention. combing through comments is so entertaining to me; it’s like watching a live feed of spontaneous and curated reactions, a competition of who is the funniest, the meanest, the judgiest, the dumbest…
and then i realized, that like real life, maybe we give public perception a little too much credit before we begin forming our own thoughts.
a sheepish 🐑 conundrum: reflections from my conversation with kat 🐈⬛
i recently had a conversation with a friend (hi, kat!) when she shared about her recent two month-long instagram cleanse. “you should try it,” she said. “it’s really therapeutic.”
kat journaled throughout her cleanse, finding herself breaking out of the “sheep mentality” she felt herself having whenever she scrolled through instagram. she likened her break from social media to hiding underwater, where it’s beautiful and she can breathe (apparently kat is a mermaid).
without the confines of instagram’s do’s and don’ts, kat was able to think creatively, be independent, come to her own.
there is a concept in social psychology called the mere-exposure effect, referring to people developing a liking/disliking for things they are frequently exposed to. the more you are exposed to reels about exclusive restaurant reservations and twenty-step skincare regimens, the more you start to feel anxious for not following in these people’s footsteps. for not doing enough. for not being enough.
because when you expose yourself to trends and see how people react to them, you catch yourself conforming to these unrealistic standards—consciously or not.
staying sane 🧘♀️ in the internet age
i am neither an expert in social media nor the picture of mental health, but i can affirm that beauty can bloom when we focus on our own thoughts and disregard what other people think.
and sometimes, it may help to actually do something in the world instead of judging it from a little screen.
thank you for stopping by,
<3 tasha
The account deep dives are unhinged this is so amazing haha