January 18, 2025. 10-something-p.m. Muscle memory guides my fingers to my favorite app. “Sorry, TikTok isn’t available right now,” the screen read. While I knew this was going to happen, I thought that I had at least two more hours before the app would shut down for good.
My name is Zora Rodgers, and I am an addict: to short-form, brain-rotting content. Despite my frustration with the government, I knew that this would ultimately be a great thing for me. It meant that I could finally regain a normal attention span and perhaps spend my days more productively. For example, reading a book or spending more time outside. I went to bed before 3 a.m. that night, with nothing to doom-scroll. To my surprise, I felt great the next morning. I woke up before noon, got breakfast with a friend and then found myself at the bookstore in hopes of replacing my scrolling with more intellectual activities.
Although the app is back on, I made the conscious decision to stay off TikTok for good. I had been meaning to “dopamine detox” my brain for a while, but as addictions tend to be, it was just too hard to quit. I probably should’ve done my research beforehand. According to the Cleveland Clinic, adopting an “all or nothing” mindset, or quitting anything cold turkey is actually counterproductive and can backfire. Such drastic change is unsustainable, as it becomes all-consuming. Instead, practicing cognitive behavioral therapy techniques such as working on reducing your bad habit in moderation is proven to be much more effective (and healthier) in the long-term.
I am ashamed to say that quitting cold-turkey was indeed ineffective. Instead, I sought dopamine from other apps, such as YouTube video essays or incessantly scrolling through old photos and text conversations between friends. But, I ended up finding a hard landing spot on Instagram Reels. This is where things went severely south.
First of all, Instagram Reels is behind its time. Their memes are distasteful and repetitive, and I don’t find myself laughing at my phone nearly as much as I was when I was on TikTok. TikTok also had official news networks and political commentary, so not all time spent there was wasted. Reels are like your mom saying, “we’ve got McDonald’s at home.” It’s not an adequate replacement, nor does it satisfy my insatiable craving.
Arguably the worst feature of the Instagram app is when it shows you who likes which posts. There are few things more humiliating than watching the most toxic video on the Internet, and below it reads, “liked by (your man) and 465,000 others.”
Since going abroad, I have recently fallen back into old habits with a man who probably wouldn’t care if I lived or died. He was abroad last semester, I’m abroad now, and we keep missing each other. He came at a time when I really needed somebody in my corner. While he’s far from perfect (perhaps even far from good), up until a few days ago I found myself smiling at my phone whenever his contact illuminated my screen. Unfortunately, Instagram Reels changed all of that.
I have caught this man, along with others I used to talk to, in the likes of the most heinous Reels to ever curse the app. Liking memes about cheating, “two-mans,” getting back together with their exes, more cheating, racist dating preferences and the occasional sports highlight to cleanse their palate. These men are not Future. They’re 5’7” and broke. Why are they acting like pimps, and publicly, for all of their followers to see? Are people not concerned about their digital footprint?
Sometimes ignorance really is bliss. Part of me wishes I hadn’t been slapped awake by Reels, since now I have to lace up my shoes, go to the gym and become the best version of myself all over again to compensate for what I’ve lost. Reels have turned me evil. They make me contemplate misandry. I view most men my age as vile human beings with a concerning lack of empathy. It makes me want to embody the female rappers I listen to, and never take a man seriously until I’m 30.
Zora Rodgers is a junior studying film, television, and theatre. She's from Falls Church, Virginia and has the pajama pants to prove it. When not watching the TODAY Show or writing, she can be found wearing too much perfume and spending her NBC paychecks on SKIMS. You can reach out to her at zrodgers@nd.edu.
