I Refuse to Be a Digital Groupie
I was tired of performing for a machine that didn't know my name.
I caught my reflection in the dark screen of my phone and realized I looked like I was begging.
I had just spent an hour scrolling through videos of people dancing and pulling pranks. I was watching things that had no substance while I sat there with a heart full of things I actually wanted to say. I felt out of my element. I am a reserved person. I am introverted. And I started to believe that being seen required performing for something that wasn’t human. I had to find a trending song I didn’t even like. I had to fill the screen with words and hope for a reward from a platform designed to keep people addicted.
I put the phone down and felt defeated. I was doubting myself. I started to wonder if what I had to offer just wasn’t interesting enough. I felt like I was in a tug of war between my own soul and a machine that rewards the loudest, silliest person in the room.
The Cost of Playing Along
I never wanted to become a social media groupie.
I see content blowing up every day that quietly makes me sad. It is jokes at other people’s expense. It is hate and animosity dressed up as entertainment. There is a constant pressure to be louder, trendier, and more shocking than you actually are.
I refused to become a mockery. I refused to put others down just to build myself up. But when you refuse to play that game on most platforms, you feel invisible. You start to feel like you have to step out of your element just to exist.
I was craving peace. I wanted a mature audience and an environment where vulnerability isn’t treated like a weakness. I didn’t want a stage. I wanted a connection.
Finding the Library in the Noise
The first time I really decided to post here, it felt like I was finally opting out.
If this platform were a room, it would be a cross between a high-level networking event and a quiet library. It is a place for the creative nerds. It is nice space for the people who are a little shy but have so much to say once they feel safe.
I realized I didn’t need the trending songs or the dances. I just needed the words. It felt like a safe space away from the trolls. For the first time, I felt like the content was actually the point. I wasn’t fighting an algorithm. I was finding a community.
My body felt different. I went from the drained, anxious feeling of the scroll to a sense of clarity and depth. I finally found the professional, creative connection I had been missing all this time.
Why I am Still Here
I want to help you follow your intuition.
I want to share my experiences so you can start trusting yourself again. We have spent so much time looking at the world through rose colored glasses. It is time to see things for what they really are so we can actually improve.
I want to build a space where we encourage one another and share knowledge openly. A place that gently points people back to God, and reminds them they don’t have to carry the weight of life on their own.
Growth doesn’t happen in the loud, viral moments. It happens in the vulnerable, quiet ones. It happens when we stop trying to be what the internet wants and start being who we were actually made to be.
Have you ever felt yourself shrinking while trying to stay visible?




No need to be a groupie among the like minded. But I get the crowd following thing. Definitely guilty of that, but now I’m on this platform, scrolling feels therapeutic.
on point issue and statement of resolve on your part. Thank you. In a similar vein, you may appreciate this as well: https://rogergroves.substack.com/p/business-and-tax-tips-if-you-are?r=5o921z