The Death of Connection: What Traditional Social Media Stole From Us

There was a time when being online felt like freedom. When we logged into MySpace, Facebook, or early Instagram, we did it to connect — to share our lives, discover new things, and find reflections of ourselves in strangers across the world. It felt intimate, almost magical. Like we were pioneering something new. Back then, the internet was a digital front porch where people waved, lingered, and truly saw one another.

But somewhere along the way, that magic got hijacked. Now, social media doesn’t feel like community — it feels like combat. We’re not logging on to connect anymore. We’re logging on to defend. To perform. To react. Instead of spaces for conversation, these platforms have become digital coliseums where the loudest, angriest voices get the most attention. The more extreme you are, the more reach you get. And you know why? Because polarization pays.

But it’s not just the division that’s broken the system — it’s the complication. Social media has become so unnecessarily complex. It used to be simple: post a picture, share a thought, connect with your people. Now you need a degree in content strategy just to be seen. Boosted posts, ad budgets, engagement funnels, algorithm timing — all these “tools” were added to help businesses grow, or so they said. But the truth is, it helped them grow. And in the process, the human element got stripped away.

Instead of authentic connection, we’re now bombarded by ads. Timelines feel more like shopping malls than social spaces. The little guys — the mom-and-pop bakeries, the family-run boutiques, the local dog groomer who makes the best bow ties you’ve ever seen — they don’t stand a chance anymore. Unless tragedy strikes and they go viral for a week, they’re buried beneath an avalanche of brand-sponsored posts and influencer deals. And just like that, forgotten next.

The platforms that once made it possible for anyone to shine now favor only the loudest or richest. Big box stores dominate the feeds. Algorithms reward controversy, not creativity. And the average small business owner? They’re just trying to figure out which button to press to be seen by the same people they’ve lived next to for years.

It’s disheartening. Because we were never supposed to become numbers. We were never meant to feel invisible in a space that was originally created for us. We’re more than content creators, more than ad targets, more than data points. We are humans — messy, emotional, brilliant, quiet, powerful humans — and we need a space that sees us that way.

That’s why I created The Livable Forest — not to go viral, but to go deeper. Not to perform, but to be present. This platform wasn’t built for clout. It was built for connection. For the woman who feels unseen online. For the parent overwhelmed by the noise. For the small business that doesn’t want to fight an algorithm just to reach their neighbors. This is a space where people matter more than metrics. Where real stories still mean something. Where we can talk, build, share, and breathe again.

This blog series will explore what it means to reclaim our digital lives. To unhook from the hustle. To remember who we were before we were told to chase validation through a screen. If you’ve ever felt like social media made you a character in someone else’s show instead of the lead in your own story — you’re not alone. You’re just waking up. And that’s a good thing.

So welcome. To a slower scroll, a softer place, and a smarter community. Welcome to the forest.

????? If you’re ready to dive deep into Nuance Dies: When Social Media Makes Us Choose Sides Instead of Seeking Truth, then subscribe to True Noir — the podcast that peels back the pretty filters and asks the questions no one else will.

Truth lives in the gray. And that’s exactly where we’re going. ????