On TikTok, our shared humanity, and what I've been up to
I’ve held off on writing my next Substack post because I had a vision of a month-long recap at the end of January. I’d like you to know I’ve been exercising uncharacteristic restraint when it comes to posting on my Instagram story because I imagined a long-form post of everything I’ve been eating, reading, watching, and doing this month. But I know myself well enough to know that when the urge to write strikes, I should always take it, because it rarely comes when I’ve penciled it into my calendar. So, I’m popping in with some rambling thoughts on January 19th.
Last night, I was at Lipstick Lounge karaoke with friends when we learned that TikTok had actually begun to block U.S. users from accessing the app. It was honestly an excellent place to get the news. Looking around this crowd of singing, dancing, laughing, joyous people, I felt struck by two things. One, that real life is so much bigger and brighter than what is on our phones. And two, that the next four years will require more of this. More of being in community; more of finding pockets of joy; more of squishing up close against each other, facing and embracing our shared humanity.
I’ve gotten a lot of joy out of TikTok over the past 4-ish years. I’ve learned new recipes and gathered book recommendations and dived headfirst into celebrity gossip hot takes and laughed a lot. In many ways, TikTok has made me feel more connected to the wide world around me, and I’ll miss that.
But after logging into the app and seeing the notification, I made the decision to delete the app for good. It felt like a logical moment to shut the door on this platform that has consumed so much of my time. The end of an era, some might say.
And then I woke up this morning to see influencers on Instagram rejoicing over Trump’s promised executive order to stay the ban. This baffles and frustrates me — let’s not forget who started the crusade against TikTok in the first place. And further, feeling like the CEO of every major social media platform is sitting in Trump’s pocket disgusts me, especially at a time when we’ll need our right to free speech more than ever.
I don’t believe that absolutes and all-or-nothings are the answer. I won’t judge those who choose to get back on the app — especially knowing all it’s done for small business owners. Personally, despite my disgust, I’m not quite ready to cut the cord on all Meta platforms, because the value of being able to connect with my family and friends across the country outweighs it. But I do feel myself pulling back. I think you’ll find me more often over here on Substack, where I can share more long-form updates on my life, while also practicing my writing and embracing the discomfort of sharing it publicly. I’m hoping that by leaning out of bite-sized updates and curated feeds, I can practice the mindfulness I want to see throughout my life. More facing and embracing our shared humanity, and less watching one another from a distance. I think we’ll need more of that, more than ever.
So, without further ado, here are some life updates:
For the first time since high school, I got to ring in the New Year in the city that I call my full-time home. Since 2018, I’ve always been back in Dallas or visiting somewhere, but there was something so refreshing about getting to wake up in my own bed on the first day of the year and start off strong (if a little hungover).
I’ve been slowly re-finding my love of cooking! The winter always gets me down, and the joy and the art of cooking often dissipate with my energy. (Winter soup lovers, I respect and appreciate you, but soup always leaves me wanting more.) I’m taking baby steps this month by trying to cook with things I can find at the farmer’s market, or getting creative to clear out my pantry — I’m looking at you, 5 cans of black beans and half-empty bag of chocolate chips.
Nate and I have been doing Dry January! We don’t drink much at home anyway, so it’s been interesting to explore what it feels like to not drink outside the house too. And in general, I’ve enjoyed it! 90% of the time, I just want a fun little beverage anyway, and Nashville’s bars have a surprisingly great selection of mocktails and NA options. When we went on a snowy walk last weekend with our friend Julia, our neighborhood bar was one of the few spots open, but we found plenty of options for snacking and sipping. I faced the ultimate test last night at karaoke, but I found that with the right people & enough caffeine, I don’t really need alcohol to hop onto a stage anyway. I imagine that after January, I’ll still drink occasionally, but this has been a good experiment to assess when I actually want a drink, versus feeling like I need one in certain situations.
And finally, re: my last post on why I’m not setting an ambitious reading goal, I’m honestly not sure how I’m feeling about my decision. I’ve been watching a lot of TV lately (and by TV, I just mean New Amsterdam — thanks Emma and Char). And I spent the week leading up to the TikTok ban watching a lot of TikToks, trying to get my fill before it was gone. But when I have made time to read, I’ve been thinking more about what I’m reading than usual. So here are some half-baked thoughts:
Lo-Fi by Liz Riggs: My first DNF of the year. I really wanted to like this book. I really did. It was boosted by so many local bookstores because it’s by a local author and it’s set in Nashville in the 2010s. And for the first 10% of the book, I was sucked into seeing this other side of the city I call home. I liked to peek into the music world and stroll around for a bit. But by 25% through, I had to accept that the main character was driving me crazy, and I wasn’t at all invested in the plot. So I returned her to the Libby-sphere, and I hope another Nashvillian finds what they’re looking for in Lo-Fi’s pages. Just not for me.
I Keep My Exoskeletons to Myself by Mac Crane: A book club pick that I advocated for! I’ve wanted to read more books on grief because it’s a key plot point in the novel I’m working on, and I want to see how other writers address it. This one reminds me a lot of The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan, though it hasn’t quite reached Chan’s level yet. While it sometimes feels a little slow, the pace picks up just enough every time I want to put it down, so I’m enjoying it. Though I will say that reading dystopian books about an overreaching American government feels a little too close to home sometimes.
How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi: My nonfiction book of the month! I got this book when I first started at my job about two and a half years ago, and I’ve picked it up and put it back down a few times. I’m nearing the end, but I’m still forming my thoughts on it. It’s challenging in a way that makes me want to talk to other people who have read it (so feel free to drop me a line if you want to chat) — like when Kendi suggests that you can be racist against white people. With a title like “How to be an Antiracist,” this book draws in people (like me) who are looking for answers on how to be a Good White Person. And though this isn’t actually the thesis of the book, I’m finding that the answer is that there is no one answer. This work of being antiracist will often leave us with more questions than answers, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important, and arguably essential, for us to grapple with.
If you stuck around to the end, thanks for squishing up next to me and listening to my rambling thoughts! It’s been an honor to share this space with you.