Let me preface this by saying I love my phone. I love it to the point I once panicked more over a cracked screen than I did when my ex said “we need to talk.”
I’m that some juan who updates his apps religiously, uses the Notes app like it’s a best friend, and yes, I have tried to track how many hours I spend on Facebook and TikTok. But only to promptly stop tracking because I didn’t like the results. (I was basically a full-time employee of scrolling)
But one day, somewhere between stalking fitness accounts and Googling if stress can cause sudden hair loss (short answer: yes, long answer: tragically yes), I realized I hadn’t actually felt rested in months. Not relaxed. Not recharged. Just… running on wi-fi and caffeine.
That’s when I knew I needed a break – a real one. So I decided to try a digital detox. And honestly? If I could do it, anyone can.
What even is a digital detox ?
I like to think of a digital detox as that one friend who forces you to leave the party early because you’ve had enough and you’re starting to get embarrassing.
It’s the conscious choice to take a step back from digital devices (especially social media) and return to, well, real life.
(Even if you swear you’re just using Facebook to check on your tita’s birthday.)
In the beginning, logging off feels almost impossible. Why? Because social media feels good. It’s literally built that way. Every like, every comment, every share? That’s dopamine, baby. It’s emotional junk food. And like junk food, it’s great in the moment but leaves you feeling a little… empty. Scattered. Sometimes even anxious.
So, is a digital detox actually doable?
Yes—but I won’t lie, it takes willpower. Especially in a country where everyone and their dog has a TikTok account, going offline feels like a minor act of rebellion.
But the reward? Reclaiming my focus, peace, and surprisingly… my battery life.
I grew up online (literally)
I still remember being on the cusp of the new millennium. The 90s and early 2000s were the days of prepaid dial-up cards, screaming modems, and random usernames lie prisoner_of_soul143. You had to earn your internet time. Yahoo Messenger was peak social life.
Now? We breathe Wi-Fi. My phone is my therapist, my camera, my calendar, my entertainment, and on bad days, my coping mechanism.
READ: 5 Tips to Beat the Lazy Days
It’s where I scroll for comfort, connection, or sometimes just to avoid deeper feelings. It’s where I overshare, overthink, and overstay. We call it “content,” but sometimes it’s really just a digital escape hatch.
And in all that noise, I stopped hearing myself.
So I hit pause.
I realized not every thought needs to be tweeted. Not every moment needs to be posted. Not every relationship needs to be soft-launched.
Before I asked the world for a like, I had to ask myself if I even liked the direction I was heading.
And that clarity only came when I logged off.
3 Ways I Actually Pulled Off My Digital Detox
It wasn’t easy at first, and I was tempted to abandon all reason. But I stuck to my guns and was rewarded with peace, calm, and being more present. Here’s how I did it:
#1 – Unfollowed, Unsubscribed, and Deleted
First thing I did? Cleaned house. I unfollowed accounts that drained me or made me feel behind in life. I unsubscribed from newsletters I never read. I deleted apps that were more habit than help.
And yes, I logged out of FB and TikTok. I told myself, You can always come back. But truthfully? The quiet felt priceless.
💻 How to Deactivate Facebook (The Living Juan tutorial)
1. Open the Facebook app
2. Go to Settings & Privacy > Settings
3. Click Accounts Center (top left)
4. Go to Personal details under Account Settings
5. Tap Account ownership and control
6. Select Deactivation or deletion
7. Choose the account/ profile you want to deactivate
8. Choose Deactivate Account
9. Click Continue and follow the prompts
10. Congrats! You’re now free to touch grass, read a book, or just stare at a wall.
#2 – I got back into real-life wins
Taking something out meant I had to put something back in. So I chose a meaningful one.
I rediscovered writing. Not the late-night chatrooms kind (IYKYK), but actual pen-to-paper journaling. It feeds my soul. It’s where I make sense of chaos, and where I get to hear my own voice again.
Other offline activities that gave me real dopamine:
- cooking something and not posting it
- playing a favorite video game guilt-free
- listening to music
- watering plants
My mind needed somewhere to go, I gave it beauty, movement, and stillness – not just algorithms.
#3 – I used tech on my terms
I didn’t go full hermit. I love my gadgets. I still track workouts, blast EDM while cleaning, and yes, I have a budgeting app I check (occasionally).
So instead of going cold turkey, I stayed mindful. I used technology as a tool, not a trap.
READ: Mindfulness for Every Juan: A Guide to Being Present
Here’s what helped:
- setting screen time limits
- turning off non-essential notifications
- creating scroll-free zones (like the bedroom or meals)
- rearranging my home screen so the first thing I see isn’t Instagram
- using Focus Mode and Do Not Disturb while journaling
- declutter old apps that no longer serve me
It was never about quitting tech. It’s about not letting it ru(i)n my life.
But what about friends and FOMO?
I won’t pretend I didn’t miss a few memes or plans. But I also saw something clearly: if my relationships only lived online, were they ever really grounded?
I texted the people who mattered. Simple message:
“Hey! I’m taking a short break from socials and updating my contacts. Just wanted to make sure I still have your number. Let’s catch up soon! -Juan”
No drama. No digital disappearing act. Just honest connection.
Platforms like Viber or WhatsApp helped me stay reachable, without pulling me back into the feed.
I deserved rest (and maybe you do too)
I used to think I had to hit a wall before I earned the right to pause. Like I needed burnout as proof. But I’ve learned I don’t need a crisis to justify rest.
I’m allowed to unplug just because I want to feel human again. No fanfare, no excuses.
It’s strange how something as simple as silence can feel rebellious. But when I gave myself space to stop, to breathe, to be, I finally felt like myself again.
Logging off wasn’t a grand gesture. It was just one of those times I chose myself over the noise.
And maybe if you’re feeling it too, it’s time you did the same.
