I Logged Off and Found My Sanity (and a Cooler Room)

I didn’t ghost the internet. I just needed a break—from the curated chaos, the performative joy, and the pressure to keep up with people who seem to have endless energy, perfect lighting, and zero roommates who sabotage the AC.

Let’s start there. My air conditioning isn’t broken. It works just fine—until my roommate decides it’s “too cold” and turns it off like we’re living in a desert monastery. So when I come home after an extra 8 hours of OT on a Saturday, drenched in sweat and barely holding it together, I walk into a sauna that used to be my room. It’s not just uncomfortable—it’s disrespectful. And it’s one more reminder that I’m still in survival mode, even while I’m trying to build something better.

So I logged off. Not forever, but long enough to remember who I am when I’m not being sold something.

Because let’s be honest: social media isn’t just a highlight reel anymore—it’s a marketplace. Every scroll is a pitch. Someone’s selling a lifestyle, a product, a course, a miracle serum, or a relationship aesthetic that doesn’t survive a single hard conversation. And the algorithm? It knows exactly when I’m vulnerable. It serves me bronzer when I feel dull, boots when I feel stuck, and a $300 blender when I’m trying to eat healthy on a temp job budget.

Logging off was good for my wallet. I stopped impulse-buying things that promised transformation and started investing in what actually moves me forward—like saving for a car, searching for studio apartments downtown, and blending smoothies with what I already have in the fridge. Greek yogurt, frozen berries, chia seeds, and spinach. No $300 blender required.

But more than that, it was good for my soul. I stopped comparing my behind-the-scenes to everyone else’s filtered front. I stopped chasing validation from strangers and started listening to my own gut.

And that gut? She’s creative. She’s strategic. She’s been busy.

I started working on my book again—the Emma Langley saga that’s part catharsis, part legacy. I’ve been polishing my astrology calendar, aligning lunar phases with emotional check-ins and retrograde-proof planning. Because if Mercury’s going to throw shade, I might as well be ready. I even started re-reading *Book Lovers* by Emily Henry, because sometimes you need a reminder that love stories can be smart, sharp, and full of longing that doesn’t flatten you.

Offline, I’m not behind—I’m rebuilding. Quietly. Strategically. And with a lot less noise.

So if you’re wondering where I went—I didn’t disappear. I just chose myself. And honestly? That’s the most radical thing I’ve done all year.