By Nick Wolny
Queer people spend a lot of time online. To be more exact, queer folks spend 35 percent more time online than their heterosexual counterparts, and according to a recently published study from Stanford, 65 percent of same-sex couples surveyed met online, compared with 39 percent of their straight peers.
I get it. Part of me wishes that outlets like Instagram, YouTube, and Twitch had existed when I was a teen. Closeted Nick, growing up in quiet rural Illinois, didn’t have access to many examples of queer people in day-to-day life; in fact, by age 18, I still only personally knew a few people who were fully out and proud, and my daily serving size of queer content was severely malnourished.
(This is a common experience: Three million LGBTQ+ people live in rural America, and 24 percent of rural Americans still don’t have access to broadband in 2019.)
My coming out in early college began with a subtle flick of the “Interested In” button on Facebook to “Men.” Chatrooms were novel, web pages loaded one band at a time, and I had “Maneater” by Nelly Furtado on repeat.
Over time, though, things sped up. Photos and videos became easier to view, share, and eventually create. Queer content began to proliferate. So did selfie culture.
Why queer people spend more time online
Nowadays, young people can track down queer accounts of any shape and size, and there are more than a few queer influencers. Much of this social media use has to do with finding our place as young people and seeing examples of queer identity across the spectrum, particularly when we don’t always get to interact with queerness in the real world from day to day.
Take dating, for example. Why risk misreading someone with your pickup line at a bar when you can leapfrog embarrassment and only connect with others who are single and ready to mingle?
And for many of us, online is where we learn about our bodies. A piece by Fast Company explores how 2018’s Tumblr NSFW ban has repercussions for LGBTQ people’s self-actualization process.
This is all fine—until we start getting addicted to the online experience. Consider the following:
- 13 percent of people report using their smartphone in the shower;
- 20 percent of people report using their smartphone during sex; and
- 50 percent of people report a heightened feeling of anxiety if they leave their phone at home to run an errand.
We’re getting addicted—and app creators want it that way.
This is your brain on FaceTune
Talk nerdy with me for a moment.
A notification on social media—such as a push notification that someone liked your photo—triggers dopamine, the pleasure chemical. A similar thing happens when we eat food, have sex, and so on.
Social media juices this process in a couple of ways.
First, when there is variable reward—sometimes getting the reward and sometimes not, such as one photo getting lots of likes versus another photo getting few—the behavior associated with the dopamine rush becomes habitual, even when the reward is not there. (Slot machines have a similar feedback loop.)
Tristan Harris is a former design ethicist for Google and the co-founder of the Center for Humane Technology. He explains that when social media applications engineered in “like” functions about a decade ago, they employed the same logic and behavioral triggers used by casinos for more addictive gambling.
I mean, there’s no stronger yearning than the desire to belong. So why not take advantage of that carnal fear over and over again?
Now pepper in the fact that this entire dopamine system is intensified when you’re thinking about yourself. And what could be more about yourself than selfie culture? In the offline world, 30–40 percent of our conversation is about ourselves; on a social platform, however, that number doubles to a staggering 80 percent.
It becomes a slippery slope to put your best foot forward and impress—especially if you’re queer and navigating the interwebs to better understand yourself.
“Snapchat Dysmorphia”
We’re losing the distinction between filters and reality—so much so, in fact, that an increased number of people are inquiring with plastic surgeons in a phenomenon experts describe as “Snapchat dysmorphia.”
Enter FaceTune.
I’ve hated FaceTune for years now, ever since seeing an Instagram ad for it that showed a photo of two men being edited, with the headline “Fix his face too!” Ugh.
But in my efforts to take the internet’s temperature on FaceTune, I couldn’t find much outrage online about it. It was buried under loads of articles and tutorials on the best way to use FaceTune (which has now been downloaded over 50 million times) and how convenient it was.
So I begrudgingly downloaded FaceTune and coughed up $2.99 to get started. And in mere minutes, I was able to zap off freckles, bleach my teeth, and generally change the entire appearance of my face.
I had the glow up I’d seen countless people celebrate. “Looking fabulous!” one commenter responded. Were my freckles bad?
(BTW: Sorry guys, but Instagram was voted the worst app for your mental health.)
Photo filters and manipulation aren’t new, and we’ve been criticizing magazine covers for decades. But giving us a tool in which we can manipulate ourselves—and receive social validation for it—is accelerating our mental health crisis.
Queer people spend more time online, and while there are troves of inspiring influencers and publications to follow, there’s also the risk of expecting sterile perfection from yourself all the time.
Detox your brain
“Girl, take some time off! Go on a vision quest!”
A weeklong, off-the-grid excursion is unsustainable for most people, particularly if you have any kind of day-to-day responsibilities.
There are ways to rewire your brain while still bingeing on fabulous content, though. Consider exploring the following steps to manage screen life.
Set boundaries.
We spend nearly four hours a day on our phones. Try implementing small boundaries to detach yourself from your device. For example, leave your phone in another room at night and use an alarm clock to wake up in the morning. This stops you from falling down a rabbit hole at night and disrupting your sleep, which is a leading cause of inflammation, lack of focus, and heightened anxiety.
Manage your notifications.
You’re gonna hate me. Turn all your notifications off—all of them, except for phone calls and maybe texts if necessary—to “never receive” and see what happens. You’ll get your life back.
Facebook has a news feed–blocking Chrome extension and Instagram lets you mute accounts—consider censoring some content so you’re not getting updates from everyone everywhere all of the time, and you’ll notice your FOMO start to recede.
Find thought-provoking queer outlets.
It’s always high tide in the thirst trap seas of Instagram. Seek outlets with substance—you’re reading one right now!—and hold ‘em close to let queer content fan the flames of your desire rather than burn you out.
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Nick Wolny is a content marketer and the Director of Programs at Super Connector Media. A frequent consumer tech expert for FOX and NBC, he’s also been featured with Entrepreneur Magazine, USA Today, Greatist, Reader’s Digest, SUCCESS, Men’s Health, VICE, and LeadPages. He’s passionate about the intersection of LGBTQ+ culture and technology, and lives in Houston.
