Rather than blowing out candles on my thirteenth birthday, I was downloading Instagram. After months of protests, I finally wore down my strict parents, but I think Covid played a significant role in softening their stance. At the time, I felt like the only one—without a phone, without TikTok, without a “social life.” Dramatic young Annabel believed social media would solve all her problems. Senior Annabel now realizes that her problems all stem from social media.

I know it’s my responsibility to use social media responsibly. Therefore, I will definitely not go scrolling on Reels for the next hour. But with these massive tech companies designing platforms to keep me hooked and encourage unhealthy habits, I’m already at a disadvantage. This struggle is not unique to me; studies and lawsuits show how platforms like TikTok and Instagram are designed to exploit our vulnerabilities. In fact, Illinois’ lawsuit against TikTok highlights how these platforms target the psychological weaknesses of teens, contributing to issues like anxiety and depression. Even though TikTok has implemented safeguards such as screen time limits and privacy features, the very nature of the platforms makes them hard to avoid—especially when they’re woven into the fabric of our social lives. 

If I have no time on my hands in the first place, how am I finding the time to go on these platforms? The answer: I’m losing sleep. Late-night scrolling has become a routine—an easy way to pass the time when I should be resting. What starts as a quick check on Instagram or a few minutes of TikTok turns into nearly an hour lost in a vortex of content, and before I know it, it’s 1 a.m. The next day, I drag myself through my to-do list, barely functioning, but still feeling the pull to pick up my phone and start the cycle all over again.

This isn’t an isolated issue—many students face the same dilemma, caught between the urge to stay connected and the overwhelming need for rest. The platforms are engineered to keep us engaged for as long as possible, and before we know it, they’ve stolen our time, our focus, and now, even our sleep. It’s hard to break free when the algorithm is working so hard to keep us hooked.

Psychologically, I can’t just say that I’ll delete the apps. It’s not as simple as cutting them out cold turkey. The temptation to redownload them when I have some spare time is overwhelming, and once I do, I feel this immense guilt for breaking my promise to myself. It’s a vicious cycle. Instead of attempting to quit entirely, I’ve learned that it’s about setting realistic, obtainable goals and establishing clear boundaries that I can actually stick to.

 For example, setting limits on how much time I spend on social media each day or designating phone-free hours during the night helps me regain control without feeling like I’m giving up the connection I crave. It’s not about perfection—it’s about progress and learning to manage my relationship with these platforms in a way that doesn’t feed into the addiction.

I’ve definitely lost productive hours scrolling through Nara Smith’s cooking videos and watching Jake Paul fights, but I can’t let it consume me. While they’ve been a fun distraction, I know that it’s important to refocus and reclaim my time, no matter how tempting the next video might be.