The Loss Of Identity

Since the past few years, social media has declared a dictatorship on how people think, what to use, dictating your whole life. The so-called influencers are just a human version of propaganda—they speak, and you listen. But should you really?

As the world is slowly falling into an organized chaos, people are finding themselves without any mentoring or certainty in life, and insanity slowly dawns. That’s when they start turning towards the lives of others—clinging to digital role models, curated perfection, algorithm-approved personalities. And somewhere in that scroll, they begin to lose themselves.

Social media is like a drug, which feels so good in the short run, but in the long run—before people can even realize—they start losing their individuality. Those endless hours of scrolling are not only harmful to your eyes but are also impeccably dangerous for your mental health.

But it goes deeper. We are witnessing a full-blown algorithmic identity crisis.

We think we’re choosing who we are. We’re not. We’re being gently—and constantly—nudged into becoming something more predictable, more engageable, more sellable. Our opinions aren’t always ours; they’re echoes of the loudest voices on our feed. Our hobbies aren’t always organic; they’re trends we absorbed through repetition. We don't even notice when our vocabulary shifts, when our sense of humor is borrowed, when our dreams start to sound like captions.

Think about it—how many people bought a Stanley cup not because they needed it, but because they saw it? How many changed their “entire aesthetic” in a week because someone said the cottage core era was dead?

The algorithm doesn’t care who you are. It just wants you to stay. It will feed you what keeps your thumb moving. And if that means slowly shifting your taste, softening your edges, and making you into a consumer instead of a creator—it’ll do that.

And we let it.

We open the apps the moment we wake up, not realizing our most vulnerable, dream-like state is now being filled with someone else’s life. We don’t even ask ourselves, “Do I actually like this, or have I just seen it enough to believe I do?”

The scariest part? One day, you wake up and realize you don’t know what you truly want anymore. You’ve forgotten what your unfiltered self even looks like. That’s the danger of it all. Not just losing time. Not just losing peace. But losing your sense of you.

The algorithm doesn’t want you to be unpredictable. But your soul was meant to be. So shut the app. Shut the noise. And in the silence, ask yourself—what would I still love if no one ever saw it?