I logged Off After Reading “Stolen Focus” – And I’m NOT in a Rush to Come Back.

After reading *Stolen Focus* by Johann Hari, I stepped away from social media. I rediscovered focus, picked up my sketchbook, and started writing my own book. Here’s what changed.

Why I Stepped Away from Social Media

Last month, I stepped away from social media. No big announcement. Just a quiet log-off after reading *Stolen Focus* by Johann Hari — a book that completely reframed how I view my time, attention, and online habits.

Hari’s core message is bold: we’re not losing focus because we’re lazy or undisciplined. Our focus is *being stolen* — by systems, algorithms, and environments that are built to scatter it.

“There’s no natural human attention span. There are only attention spans that can be nourished, and attention spans that can be starved.”

What I Noticed Without the Scroll

The first few days were weird. My fingers itched to pick up my phone. But slowly, the static cleared.

I started waking up without immediately checking notifications. I noticed birds outside my window. I made coffee and actually *tasted* it.

Most meaningfully — I returned to drawing. I started sketching again — not for content, not to share — just for *me*. And then, I did something even more unexpected: I began writing a book.

The Filtered World I Used to Live In

One of the biggest emotional waves I experienced during the break was shame — not in a harsh way, but in a reflective way.

Because the truth is, I used to *contribute* to the filtered reality of social media. I posted only the nice bits. Cropped the chaos. Smiled when I felt flat.

“When you are never at rest, you start to feel that something’s wrong with you — when in fact, what’s wrong is the environment that’s constantly poking and prodding you.”

“We are living in an attentional pathogenic culture — one that is systematically undermining our ability to pay attention.”

Creating Offline: Drawing, Writing, and Feeling Whole Again

Logging off gave me back something I hadn’t realised I’d lost: creative flow. I draw again — not to post, just to explore. I write again — because I have something to say. I rest without guilt. I sit without reaching for something to fill the space.

*Stolen Focus* reminded me that I’m allowed to take my attention seriously. That I don’t have to be always “on.” That I can choose depth over speed.

Life Without Social Media: The Unexpected Joy of Missing Nothing
It’s hard to describe just how much *lighter* life feels without social media — until you’ve been off it long enough to forget the urge to check it. What began as a one-month break has slowly evolved into something much deeper: a reset. A remembering. A reclamation of my own time and energy.

Social media didn’t just eat up my time — it had started to *consume my sense of self*. I didn’t post constantly, but I thought about it constantly. Every moment had potential to be turned into content. A sunset? Post it. A coffee? Snap it. A thought? Make it shareable. I was living with one eye on the present and the other on how it might look to other people. It wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t even intentional. It was just… habitual.

Johann Hari puts it best when he says,
“**We are being trained to flick and flit rather than focus and feel.**”

I used to think I needed social media to stay connected. But the irony is, I felt *more connected to life* once I stepped away from it. I began to have richer conversations — the kind that aren’t interrupted by notifications. I sat through silence without needing to escape it. I walked without music. Ate without distractions. Breathed a little deeper.

And I slept better. That one shocked me.

Without that late-night scrolling — which always tricked me into thinking I was “winding down” — my sleep patterns gradually recalibrated. My dreams became more vivid. I woke up clearer, less groggy. The mental fog began to lift. It turns out, when you stop overstimulating your brain with artificial reward systems, it finds its own natural rhythm again.

And no, I don’t *miss* it. Not the way I feared I would.

There’s a fear we all carry — that stepping away will make us irrelevant, out of touch, lonely. But what I’ve discovered is the exact opposite: when I’m not buried in what everyone else is doing, I’m much more present with what *I’m* doing. I’m not behind. I’m not missing out. I’m finally caught up with myself.

I don’t feel the pressure to explain my life in captions. I don’t feel the pull to perform happiness. I don’t compare my behind-the-scenes to someone else’s highlights. I just live. In the ordinary, beautiful, undramatic details of daily life.

No algorithm reminds me what I care about. *I do*.

And that, more than anything, is what social media had quietly taken from me: the ability to sit with myself, to be still, to notice the tiny joys that aren’t shareable — but so deeply nourishing.

Life without social media hasn’t made me invisible. It’s made me whole again.