As with everyone else, I got caught up in the hype and drama of the TikTok Ban.
On Sunday night at 9:30 pm, I watched the app freeze as I tried to heart one final video, save one last post, and scroll my last scroll.
As silly as it sounds, the loss hit me hard.
It shouldn’t have.
I’ve deleted TikTok before whenever my scrolling got out of hand.
But this time was different.
I, like most people, downloaded it in the early days of the pandemic for entertainment certain songs like Roses remix and Savage Love still trigger memories of the time of learning viral dances with my husband and then kindergartner and toddler, home from daycare and school, or of researching tips for postpartum moms as I balanced working from home and the responsibilities of my newborn son (#pandemicbaby). The recipe videos helped when even I was sick to death of my own spaghetti, and craft videos made entertainment for my kids, who were bored and trapped in the house.
As the world opened, I deleted it. I took my writing seriously, finishing my first manuscript in 2020 for a contest, and joined all the virtual conferences, writing groups, and good Twitter writing pitch events.
I think my relationship with Tiktok changed this past June when my full-time position ended due to department closure.
Suddenly, I had time, severance, and some income from writing to make a go at being an author.
I also had more time to consume content—and TikTok became my escape.
At first, I kept busy with my first developmental edit, turning it in by Labor Day. After that, I had all the free time to figure out what I wanted to write next and what project I would do.
Instead of facing the blank page, I could easily scroll, convincing myself that it wasn’t time wasted—it was research.
With every swipe, the algorithm fed me more of what I craved—interesting content for someday—writing hacks, new recipes, cleaning tips, book recommendations, and new hobbies like coloring or making polymer clay earrings.
The comment section was consistently unmatched, often funnier than the video itself.
In the run-up to the election, I found joy and community and believed in the promise of better things to come.
TikTok, in short, was my outlet and window to the world.
As a writer, it should be easy to describe how I felt that night and the next day that TikTok ended.
Anger. Disgust. Disappointment. Betrayal. Manipulation—all the emotions flowed at the thought of something that had helped me so much being taken away for my safety when none of my other safeties seemed to matter.
Healthcare? Gun Control? Safe food and water? Freedom from corruption? Equal protection under the law? Books without bans?
None of that seemed to matter as much as this app for security reasons.
As soon as the app stopped functioning, I deleted it and CapCut, the app I was using to edit my videos.
My sister said it was foolish, especially after it was “saved” since it’s no longer in the app store, but I was truly done the night it stopped because TikTok, as I knew it, was gone.
And with its loss came unexpected clarity.
The Hidden Costs of TikTok
Looking back, it’s clear why the ban hit me so hard.
I wasn’t just a casual user. I had a full-blown phone addiction.
In the three weeks before the ban, I spent 40 to 56 hours a week on TikTok alone.
There are a host of excuses I could have for this.
It was the holidays.
I turned my latest draft in on January 6th and had “earned” a break.
I knew the ban was coming and wanted to spend time.
I created a database of my saved videos that were book inspiration (over 350+) and that took time to review them, saving the best ones.
But in truth, the answer was that it was easy.
TikTok filled in those awkward bits of time with guaranteed dopamine.
I could spend an hour and a half when I woke at five before it was time to wake the kids, 45 minutes while waiting for pick up, an hour during lunch for “research, " and two hours after bedtime. Who knows how much time I spent on the weekends?
That’s a full-time job spent consuming what others created—no wonder I wasn’t making much progress on my next book.
The impact wasn’t just on my time. TikTok influenced my spending habits, encouraging impulse buys and fast-food cravings. I saw things I “needed.” Saw new ideas I just had to try.
Reclaiming My Life
I didn’t want to delete TikTok pre-ban, but now that it’s gone, life is better.
1. More Time
Without TikTok, I’ve reclaimed hours each day.
With the ban and the constant news cycle, I’m consuming far less media overall.
Instead of scrolling, I’ve been reading books, outlining new stories, and spending quality time with my family.
I’m also sleeping better, going back to sleep instead of watching TikToks at 3 am.
2. Saved Money
Without constant exposure to trends and recommendations, I’ve cut back on unnecessary spending. I’ve even started recreating recipes at home instead of ordering takeout.
3. A Cleaner Space
My house is finally getting the attention it deserves. I’ve tackled chores I’d been avoiding, set up a second writing space with better lighting, and ordered a new comfy office chair.
4. Greater Presence
I’ve been cooking more meals for my kids, tried baking bread from scratch, and been more present at homework time, helping them with their school work by dividing fractions, learning the difference between open and closed syllables, and mastering the alphabet.
We’ve also been more social, as I had lunch with a friend in person last Thursday, and we also had one of their friends over and had a mini-tea party from all those posts I had been saving.
I guess all those saves were good for something :)
5. Increased Productivity
With my reclaimed time, I’ve been doing things to help me reach my goals.
I finished the comp book for my next book project.
I’ve enrolled in another writing course at the Writer’s Conservatory (Jasmine Guillory—Selling Romance) to inform my next project.
I’ve updated my 2025 Book Guide, which houses the best bits and writing advice I’ve gathered in my attempt to get my writing brain on paper.
I’ve completed the prep for the next manuscript and plan to start drafting it on Monday.
I’ve even built writing templates and trackers to refine my process.
Wrote this article!
Lessons Learned
These aren’t crazy ah-has and are in some ways predictable after ending other addictions/time sucks, but the loss of something showed me the importance of owning things—my virtual spaces, my words, my books, my business, my time.
I’m still on social - Offical BlueSky Girlie (@bnwosu.bsky.social), but the slower feed/algorithm feels more on pace to dip for the news and get back to what I need to do.
In a world dedicated to colonizing my attention and siphoning my bank account, I am glad I had to confront my relationship with consumption and remember my purpose—creating meaningful things and experiencing the magic of life.
Now, with all this time, I’m working on turning all those somedays into today.
What are your thoughts?
Are you consuming less media these days?
If so, how are you reclaiming your time?
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Happy Writing -
Bri
Great Reflective Post.❤️