As a former follower of Marie Le Conte (AKA The Young Vulgarians) on X, I read her column on leaving the platform with interest, full sympathy and self-reflection (For anyone still using
I joined X – or rather Twitter – in 2007 after reading a Guardian article on five next-hit websites. Needless to say, most of the rest has been forgotten. I was bored in my uni hall and this seemed the most interesting.
In those days anyone could sit and watch a global feed – every tweet being posted in the world – with remarkable seconds between posts. I chatted with an American cat-lover and sometimes there would be no other tweets visible between our replies to each other.
Over the years I compiled my following list. This became an invaluable tool. I shared interesting policy blogs or academic articles at work, which helped my career. I always had a clip of a football goal or intelligence on a train delay. I bragged about my PR-damaging tweets that would send customer service teams into reverse mode.
At least, I convinced myself it was an invaluable tool. As Mary suggested, recently I had entered a cycle of dopamine-chasing doom-scrolling. When Grok started enabling the abuse of women and girls, a friend of mine questioned why I was on the platform. My partner had interrogated me for years. “For work, football and train updates” started out as a genuine excuse but soon rang hollow.
Last Wednesday I deactivated my account. It felt like a moment. I was afraid of how I would feel the next day. After proudly announcing it to various friendship groups and to my partner and praising it and telling them it would be good for my health, I felt better. Now I don’t even remember it and it’s as if it never happened. A very strange dream, which upon reflection turns out to be a nightmare.
Sam Nair
Whitley Bay, Tyne and Wear
