everyone is lonely, and your phone isn’t helping
on reality shifting, detachment, and why community still matters
Americans are lonely, and social media is only making it worse. We’re at the first twenty minutes of a science fiction movie—the part where AI takes over and wipes out humanity. We spend hours online building brands and selling ourselves like products. In the end, we forget we’re people, not content built for consumption.
I firmly believe we weren’t meant to have this much access to information all the time. You’re not supposed to know what the Kardashians or Selena Gomez are doing 24/7. Twenty years ago, you had to buy a magazine at the supermarket to find out. Conservatives wouldn’t be having “What is a woman?” debates because twenty years ago, you wouldn’t know much about trans people unless you watched Law and Order: SVU. Grown men wouldn’t be making rage-bait content about women not being “marriage material” because, twenty years ago, they would’ve had actual jobs. Not to sound like a boomer, but it really is because you be on that phone too damn much.
Lately, I’ve had to force myself to unplug in the mornings. I wake up and the first thing I do is reach for my phone. I’ll sit there scrolling while trying to get ready, refreshing Indeed or LinkedIn looking for jobs. All it does is spike my anxiety and make me hate my life before the day even starts. I’m waking up for a regular job while some of my peers are getting on planes.
The pandemic didn’t help. I knew things were bad when “reality shifting” became popular on TikTok—Gen Z convincing themselves they can shift into fictional worlds. At first, I laughed, but honestly? It’s just sad. You’re dreaming. There’s no separate universe where Draco Malfoy wants to date you. Trust me, I get it—I’m unsatisfied with my life too. I thought I’d have more going on by now. But it’s unsettling watching 18–24-year-olds seriously believe they can switch realities. You’re writing out goals for your “desired reality”; why not apply them to your real life? If you want to be thinner or dye your hair, do it now.
Society has reached a level of isolation where Gen Z would rather hide in their bedrooms than learn how to talk to each other. I’ve been in therapy for a decade, and I know it’s hard, but the only way to work through social anxiety is by actually leaving the house. I wish more people were committed to getting better. Shifting seems harmless until you think about what it means.
My therapy goals have always been to build genuine connections. I want people to see me as someone who shows up. It’s disheartening to go on social media and see people refusing to help their friends move or pick them up from the airport. If you can’t show up for the little stuff, what’s the point? Friendships matter because they’re chosen. Your family loves you unconditionally because they have to.
We’ve “therapy”-speaked ourselves into being alone.
This isn’t how you talk to people. Your friends aren’t clients, and sending someone a copy/paste “too busy” text when they need you is a fast track to getting blocked by me. Relationships are emotional labor. That’s the point. It’s okay for people to need you. It’s okay to build community. Social media has convinced people that detachment is normal.
Remember when Nickelodeon had the Worldwide Day of Play? Americans need that again. Turn off the phone. Touch grass. While you scroll Instagram, life is still happening outside—whether you participate or not. What’s life without community? Who do you turn to when you’re struggling?
This is why I push for community spaces for tweens and teens. Kids need places outside of school to be creative, to express themselves. Turn off that tablet. Take them kids outside.
Nice work - you nailed it.