Cult of Codependence: Our Phones, Our Followers, and the Curse of Oversharing

In 2024, social media is no longer just a platform for sharing updates—it’s a stage where we present curated versions of ourselves. There's undeniable value in being able to connect with people across the globe, and maintaining relationships that might otherwise fade due to distance. However, our relationship with these platforms has morphed from connection into compulsion. What began as a way to stay in touch has turned into a never-ending performance, with every post demanding validation from an unseen audience.

It’s no longer enough to simply live; we feel an almost obligatory need to document, edit, and share our existence. We’ve become unpaid content creators for tech giants, generating endless material that fills their platforms and bolsters their profits—all at the cost of our own well-being. This isn't about "phones being bad"—it's about how social media has altered our perception of life itself, pushing us to craft and market a persona for public consumption.

Living for the Audience, Not Ourselves

Think about it: when was the last time you did something purely for yourself, without considering how it might be received online? That aesthetically pleasing café visit or the quick weekend getaway—so often, they become about capturing the perfect shot for your feed rather than simply living in the moment. We’ve become unpaid marketers of our own lives, churning out content that brings attention to platforms, not necessarily to ourselves.

This need to be seen has fundamentally changed how we experience life. We’re not just living; we’re constantly performing, turning everyday moments into potential content. And if it isn’t shared, it feels like it never happened. This isn’t just about documenting memories—it’s about presenting a version of ourselves that will be approved, liked, and shared. After all, in a world where you are what you post, going quiet on social media feels almost like vanishing into the ether.

Time: The True Casualty of Our Social Media Obsession

Beyond the psychological impacts, the sheer amount of time spent on social media is staggering. We aren’t just passively consuming content; we’re actively producing it. Filming, editing, and crafting the perfect post takes time, and we agonize over the details—choosing filters, captions, and angles that will generate the most engagement. This is time we willingly sacrifice to platforms like Meta, which profit from our unpaid labor and attention.

The irony is that the more effort we put into crafting an ideal online presence, the less genuine satisfaction we receive. Like any toxic relationship, the more we give, the less we get in return. We’re addicted to the fleeting highs of likes and validation, while our real experiences are diluted through the lens of a camera. A sunset isn’t just a sunset—it’s a backdrop for a photo-op. A meal isn’t just nourishment—it’s potential content.

The Codependency Crisis

We’ve reached a point where we’re no longer just users of social media; we’re part of a system that thrives on our need for approval. This isn’t about individual behavior—it’s a societal shift. Social media companies profit off our engagement, creating an environment that encourages us to share more, perform more, and constantly seek validation. Every like, share, and comment fuels a cycle of dependence that feels almost impossible to break.

What does this compulsion say about us? Our phones aren’t just tools—they’ve become mirrors reflecting back what we want others to believe. We’ve stopped living for our own joy and started living for the applause of strangers, sacrificing authenticity for the illusion of perfection.

The Culture of Oversharing: A New Global Religion?

And here’s the kicker: we willingly participate in this madness. If this were some dystopian novel, we’d all be shaking our heads at how ludicrous it sounds. Yet, we live it every day. It’s almost laughable. We’ve created a culture of oversharing so pervasive that privacy now feels like an endangered species. Who needs intimacy when you’ve got followers?

In many ways, this culture of documentation and constant connectivity has morphed into a form of modern-day religion. The holy sacraments? Likes, shares, and retweets. The altar? Your timeline. The prophets? Influencers with their immaculate lighting and impossibly curated lives. We worship at the temple of social media, desperate for affirmation, for connection, for a sense of relevance.

But here's the harsh truth: we’ve swapped authentic experiences for staged moments, swapped genuine conversations for comment threads. We’ve become slaves to our own need for validation.

The Path Forward: Reclaiming the Unseen Moments

So, what’s the antidote to this codependency? Maybe it’s time to embrace the idea that not every moment needs to be shared. Not every meal needs a photo. Not every thought needs to be broadcast. Perhaps it’s time to let some moments breathe, free from the watchful eye of an audience.

The true richness of life can’t be captured in a post. It exists in those private, messy, unfiltered moments—the ones that slip by unnoticed, undocumented, but ultimately, deeply felt. To live fully, we might need to sever the invisible umbilical cord between ourselves and our phones.

Because in the end, when the screens go dark and the notifications stop, the only audience left is the one that truly matters: ourselves.

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Lara Alanya admits to being a bit of a hypocrite who still can’t resist her phone's pull—though now she’s more dependent on her Kindle. Despite calling for unfiltered moments, you’ll still catch her adjusting angles and captions for that perfect post.