Why I'm Not on Social Media
- Stephanie Morillo
- May 6
- 4 min read
Updated: May 6

At the end of 2019, I was feverishly writing my first eBook: a short, actionable guide to help software developers learn content marketing and boost their careers. The lessons in the book drew from my decades of blogging experience, my then seven years experience working in editorial roles, and in my role as a program manager on developer relations teams.
The book was turned down by a publisher which turned into a massive opportunity for me. I thought: "What if I make this book in public, tweet my progress, set up a pre-order page, and build momentum for the book while I'm writing it?" This approach worked beyond my wildest dreams. In the six weeks I was writing and promoting the book, I received hundreds of pre-orders. By current estimates, I've sold over 1,300 copies of the book, and even though it's no longer for sale on my website, I average 8-10 sales a year from people who reach out to me on my website. I'd been very active on Twitter for a decade at that point and my follower count doubled overnight. I was able to secure speaking engagements, book workshops, write another eBook, and host masterclasses on niche topics for developers all over the world — all paid engagements on the back of this eBook. I worked almost around the clock on my social media presence, my marketing strategy, and outreach. It was a boon for my family, providing an additional income stream that helped us in many ways.
Then in 2022, I shut it all down. I shut down my business. I shut down my Twitter account. I deleted my email marketing account and took down the eBook sales pages from my website. And I don't regret any of it.
Social Media for Hustlers Only?
Social media — specifically Twitter — changed my life in the 2010s, connecting me to other tech-minded people. I got job opportunities, made lasting friendships, wrote bylines, and secured conference speaking engagements from my Twitter participation. Despite always having a modest following, people knew who I was. This intensive participation was made possible by being at a stage in my life when I was hungry for opportunity and unencumbered by any obligations outside of myself. I could spend as much or as little time as I wanted.
But during the pandemic, when it seemed like everyone on Twitter had a side hustle, it became positively exhausting. I became pregnant with my first child and I was still delivering conference talks, working on a coaching program, creating workshops, and leading masterclasses. In the time after my daughter was born, it became very evident that I was no longer interested in the same conversations I had been up to that point. And being stretched as thin as I was, I had no interest in maintaining a side hustle. Being extremely online would take me away from being with my kids and my husband. It would encroach on time that already felt precariously short.
The Pull of Social Media for Artists
Most artists today maintain a social media presence. There is an expectation that artists not only document their work, but they do so frequently, less they fall into the algorithm-defined abyss. The stress that comes from having to market oneself in an environment where people already feel tapped out from the sheer volume of content out there is palpable. Even with the volume of effort needed to stay at the top of someone's feed, there is no guarantee that there will be any pay off, whatever that pay off may be. I am not interested in swimming against a tide that is keen on using up my energy without a break.
I know how social media works. It threatens to suck one in with a siren song of endless scrolling, and to consume, which then turns into self-doubt and sometimes despair. It's impossible to hear oneself think, and I want to know what I think about things. I want space to think and process and question. As lovely as it is to be able to connect with other artists, art lovers, and art professionals online, it would require giving away whatever free time and attention I have. Nothing in life is free.
Moreover, social media reduces art to pretty images. Art making is a physical and emotional act. There's much to be said about the environments where we create art or view art. The high ceilings of a museum, the lighting, the silence. The messiness of an art studio, the way dried paint feels on our hands. These are highly sensorial experiences that we miss out on on social media.
So I've made the decision to not maintain a social media presence. I will update the pieces listed in the Artwork page regularly and will publish blog posts about what I'm learning as my art practice evolves. I look forward to sharing this with you all.
Warmly,
Stephanie