Why I Don’t Like Social Media

People assume I avoid social media because I’m private.
Or humble.
Or too busy.

But that’s not the full truth.

The real reason I do not post my life is simpler, and somehow heavier:
I don’t like what social media became.

I don’t like what it does to people.
I don’t like what it demands from us.
And I don’t like who we become
when we let it teach us how to live.

Let me explain.

1. Social media replaced authenticity with choreography.

Somewhere along the line, being real became a performance.
You can feel it when you scroll —
the rehearsed vulnerability,
the curated chaos,
the “authentic moments” that somehow took
three retakes and a ring light.

People don’t share life anymore.
They produce it.

And I don’t want my life to become a scene
I have to perform just to stay relevant.

2. It normalizes a level of comparison the human mind was never built for.

We were not designed to compare ourselves
to thousands of people per day.

We used to compare ourselves to our neighbors.
Now our neighbors are influencers, billionaires,
and people who rehearse their happiness for an audience.

No wonder people feel behind.
Behind what?
Behind who?
Behind a manufactured reality that never actually existed?

I don’t want my self-worth determined
by the highlight reels of strangers.

3. Social media rewards the loud, not the wise.

If silence had a currency,
the world would be rich. Very rich.

But on social media?
Volume beats value.
Outrage beats insight.
Visibility beats virtue.

Everything gets flattened into something clickable.
Even serious opinions
must now entertain to be heard.

I made a decision long ago to refuse to dilute my thoughts
to fit an algorithm’s appetite. I made a decision about the man I want to be. I made a decision long ago about who I was living for.

4. It turned connection into consumption.

Likes replaced listening.
Comments replaced conversations.
Followers replaced friendships.

People think watching someone’s story
is the same as knowing them.
It’s not.
It’s the illusion of proximity
without any of the responsibility of relationship.

I don’t want my connections with people
to be based on speed and scrolls.
I want depth — the kind that doesn’t need an audience.

5. Social media steals the mystery out of life.

Everything is shared.
Everything is captured.
Everything is exposed.

But the most beautiful parts of life
are rarely the ones you post.
They’re the quiet moments no one sees,
the ones that can’t be replicated or cropped.

And I want to keep those moments
for the people who were actually there. The people who actually matter.

Like I don’t put my kids online.
Not because I’m secretive—
but because I’m protective.

The world doesn’t get to comment on my children
or analyze my home
or observe my relationships like a public exhibit.

Some people share their families in loving, beautiful ways. I respect that deeply.
For me, my home is a sanctuary, it is sacred and not a stage.

6. I don’t like who people think they have to become online.

I don’t have to say anything. You’ve seen it. You can almost touch it.

Everyone has to be a brand.
Everyone has to be inspiring.
Everyone has to be noteworthy.

It’s exhausting.
It’s theatrical.
And it’s quietly destroying the ability
to simply be human.

I don’t dislike people. I love people. I love humans.
I dislike what this environment pulls out of them.
The pressure.
The performance.
The hunger for validation that never ends.

7. I want my life to feel good in real time, not just look good in hindsight.

A lot of people don’t live anymore —
they anticipate.
“How will this look online?”
“Should I film this?”
“Did I capture that moment properly?”

Capturing moments kills them.

I want to experience my life,
not document it for strangers.
I want my joy to hit me fully,
not be interrupted by a camera icon.

8. I want my value to come from who I am — not how often I appear.

Social media tricks people into thinking
their worth is measured by visibility.

But the truth is simple:
Some of the most powerful, influential people
barely post anything.
They’re too busy building, living, thinking,
becoming.

I’d rather be underestimated than overexposed.
I’d rather be real than relevant.
I’d rather build quietly
than perform loudly.

I don’t like social media
because it has turned humanity
into a continuous performance —
and I want no part of that stage.

I don’t judge those who use it.
Some use it beautifully.
Some use it to heal, to teach, to inspire.
And I respect that deeply.

But for me?
My peace is worth more than my presence.
My privacy is worth more than my posts.
My life is worth more than algorithms.

I don’t want the need to post feel like bondage. To be a slave to the algorithm.

I’d rather miss out on attention
than lose myself in the process of earning it.

And I bet, you feel the same way too.

Today we are divesting two online assets.

True crime YouTube channel

Revenue: $574,000 yearly revenues (last 12 months)

Yearly net profit: $552,000 (last 12 months)

Monthly profit average: $46,000 (96% profit margins)

Expenses: Team salaries

Asking Price: $1,300,000 USD with $910,000 USD down. Seller finance $390K over 3 years and only paid back based on certain KPIs being met. Nullify if otherwise.

Quick Fitness Shopify Store

This no tariff two-year-old Shopify store serves the Australian market and has generated just under $1 million USD in the past 12 months, selling lightweight, handheld fitness products designed for quick workouts.

2025- Revenue- $500,000 USD/ Profit-$100,000 USD

2024- Revenue- $290,000 USD/Profit-$58,000 USD

TTM revenue-$800,000 USD

TTM profit: $160,000 USD

Asking $160,000 USD with $128,000 USD down. Seller finance $32,000 USD over 2 years at zero % interest. Seller finance portion is tied to metrics. Only paid if you recover $160,000 in revenues.

Of course all deals go through our seasoned legal team, for a safe escrow transaction.

Till next time contrarians…

Onwards and upwards

Be great!!