I Don't Want to Live on Social Media Anymore
By Alison Lumbatis · August 22, 2026 · 5 min read

Rediscovering Me

Happy Sunday, friend!
I've been thinking lately about how much I miss the old internet.
If you've been around since my days blogging at Get Your Pretty On, you probably remember it too. I would sit down and write a post about whatever was on my mind that day, hit publish and then we'd all hang out in the comments.
Women actually talked to each other there (remember blog hopping?). I recognized mostly everyone’s name. You recognized each other's names. We even had some real life meet ups.
It felt like a little neighborhood and I loved every bit of it!
Then social media came along and, at first, I loved that too. It gave me a way to reach women who never would've found my little blog otherwise. It helped me grow Get Your Pretty On, eventually build Outfit Formulas and connect with women all over the world.
I'm incredibly grateful for what it's given me. But somewhere along the way, it changed. And honestly, so did I.
Social media started feeling less like a place where I went to connect and more like a place where I was expected to perform. A place where I compared myself to what everyone else was doing. A place with way too many expectations.
Instead of thinking, I really want to share this, I found myself thinking, I really need to post something. Those are two VERY different feelings.
And I don't think you need to have a business or create content to understand what I mean.
Maybe you remember opening Instagram because you actually wanted to see what your friends were doing. Now maybe you just open it out of habit and somehow emerge 45 minutes later knowing what a stranger had for breakfast, what five things you're apparently doing wrong in menopause, why everyone is mad today and which kitchen gadget you absolutely NEED from Amazon. 😂
It's a lot and I find myself craving less and less of it.
This is admittedly a little complicated for me because social media isn't just entertainment. Over the years, I've somehow accumulated an audience of more than 1.5 million people across my platforms, and social media has played a huge role in building my businesses and allowing me to do work that I love.
Which means I probably have more reason than most people to keep playing the game. Believe me, the business owner in me fully understands how ridiculous it sounds to say, "You know that distribution channel where 1.5 million people agreed to hear from you? I think I'd like to use that a lot less." 😂
But that's exactly what I've slowly been doing. I'm posting less, as a matter of fact, I didn’t post at all the first 3 months of this year.
I'm trying not to create something simply because I haven't posted in a few days. I'm sharing when I actually have something I want to say, I'm spending less time scrolling and I'm paying much more attention to how I feel when I put my phone down.
And I'm protecting my energy around all of it more than I ever have before.
I don't think I'm leaving social media entirely. There are still things I genuinely love about it, and I know I'll continue sharing there. I'm just changing my relationship with it.
And maybe that's another part of rediscovering ourselves that we don't talk about enough.
Sometimes something can have been really good for us and still not fit us in the same way anymore.
A career.
A friendship.
A house.
A routine.
A version of success.
Even something we once loved.
We don't have to make it bad in order to admit that we want something different now. I'm learning that more and more.
I can be grateful for what something gave me without owing it the rest of my life.
And lately, I find myself much less interested in being visible everywhere and much more interested in being present somewhere.
Maybe that's why writing these Sunday letters has felt so good. They are giving me life again! It reminds me of the internet I fell in love with in the first place.
Last week I asked you to tell me about the breadcrumbs you're following right now, and I've absolutely loved reading your responses.
Some of you are making big changes. Some of you are trying tiny new things. Some are picking up old hobbies, making plans, taking trips, figuring out what you want after years of putting everyone else first.
And reading them, I kept having the same thought:
I wish you could read each other's answers.
Because there are over 50,000 of us here now, and I think so many of you would read another woman's story and think, Oh my gosh. Me too!
That's what I've been missing, not more followers, not more reach.
More connection.
I miss those smaller corners of the internet where we chose to show up because we wanted to be there. Where conversations weren't competing with an algorithm, an ad, the latest outrage or an endless feed waiting to pull us somewhere else.
A place where we could slow the conversation down enough to actually hear each other. I've started wondering what it would look like to create something like that again.
A place outside of social media where we could share our breadcrumbs, talk about what we're trying, swap recommendations, encourage each other, ask questions and have some of these conversations together instead of everything happening privately in my inbox.
Somewhere that feels a little like those early blogging days. Just with better technology. 😂
And, well...I've been quietly working on something.
I'm not going to tell you about it quite yet, but next Sunday I will. I have a feeling some of you are going to want to pull up a chair. ❤️
Until then, keep sending me your breadcrumbs. I really enjoy reading them.
🌱 This Week's Breadcrumb
This week, pay attention to the places you're spending your attention.
Not in a "delete all your apps and throw your phone into a lake" kind of way. 😂 (although I’ve been tempted to myself…)
Just notice.
What leaves you feeling more like yourself when you're done - and what consistently leaves you feeling like less?
Maybe there's one tiny adjustment you want to make.
That's enough.
xo,
Alison

Letters from Alison
If this met you where you are, the letters will too.
One quiet Sunday email. An essay, an outfit, and one small thing to take into the week.



