Shifting of Socials: Letting Go of Facebook

I didn’t expect leaving Facebook to feel like such a big deal.

But untangling myself from it — the group, the page, the habits — was harder than I thought. It wasn’t just logistics. It was the emotional hold. Years of student posts and conversations. Years of keeping things going, even when I was too quiet to contribute much myself.

When I finally started to close the group, Facebook made it surprisingly difficult to let go — which only confirmed how much space it was still taking up. And how much power it had been given.

There was a time when artist-led Facebook groups felt like a gift — a soft landing space for students. They were often offered as a bonus during the first live round of a course. A little extra connection. A little space to share.

But over time, the group began to shift. What started as a place for creative sharing became something else — a space where troubleshooting took center stage. Questions about logins, browser quirks, and forgotten passwords slowly replaced the joy of showing work and connecting over color palettes. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. That’s just where the energy drifted.

And I tried to keep up. I answered what I could, when I could. But the tech was complicated, the platforms were clunky, and I always felt a few steps behind — juggling fixes when I really wanted to be teaching and making.

Eventually, I stopped going in altogether.

Still, when I closed the group for good, I panicked. What if it hurt my business? What if people thought I didn’t care? But the truth is — I care deeply. I just want to share in ways that feel like me. Not like a performance. Not like a feed to be gamed.

Did you know? Multiple studies have shown that heavy social media use — especially among midlife women and creatives — can lead to increased anxiety, time distortion, and self-comparison. For artists, the pressure to perform rather than create can quietly replace inspiration with exhaustion.

Facebook and Instagram are both owned by Meta, and their systems increasingly overlap. Managing a Facebook business page means navigating posts, ads, messages, roles, notifications, analytics — each tucked into its own dashboard, often changing without warning.

Each bell and whistle might be designed to help — but for me, they started stacking up like blocks. Not building something better, just building a wall between me and my students.

That tangled ownership is exactly why I can’t fully delete my Facebook account just yet. Removing one can put the other at risk. That in itself is a red flag — a quiet warning about how little control we actually have once we sign up.

So for now, I’ve chosen to lock things down. The group is closed. The business page is muted, with a single pinned post. I no longer post, read messages, or rely on it in any way.

Eventually, I hope to let it go entirely. But I’m moving slowly, to protect what matters most to me — the space where I still feel seen and safe enough to share: Instagram.

I know this change may feel frustrating or even disappointing. Facebook groups have come to feel like a given — a built-in part of how courses work. And when that disappears, it can feel like something is being taken away. I understand that.

But I also have to protect the everyday version of me — the one who creates the lessons, answers the emails, and shows up when inspiration allows. And that version of me simply can’t keep up with the pressure to moderate, manage, and perform all at once.

Cutting out the noise — the comments, the tech, the constant fixing — is one way I’m making space. Not just for myself, but for you. So you can focus on growing your art for yourself, without all the static. So you can look for gentler, quieter ways to connect that don’t require showing up loudly to be seen.

I know that taking something away — especially something that once felt like a given — can seem like I’m offering less. But in reality, this shift is meant to offer more. More depth. More clarity. More room to breathe and create without distraction. Less noise, more meaning.

This wasn’t a decision I made lightly. It was made to preserve the kind of creative environment I want to offer — one that gives more than it drains.

So I’m easing out. The Facebook group is closed. The business page is still visible, but only just — quietly pinned and no longer active. I plan to remove it fully when it’s safe to do so without risking what I’ve built on Instagram.

I’m choosing a quieter path. One that feels more like art. And less like algorithms.

-Danielle

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CONNECTING THROUGH COMMUNITY

You can find this series on Pinterest — a quiet board to return to when the world feels too loud. Save, revisit, or explore more reflections as they’re added. If something in this post resonates, I’d love for you to save or share it there. I’ve quietly turned off comments here — but I hope the conversation continues in the ways that feel right to you. No pressure. Just a place to return to when the world feels too loud.

You’re also welcome to join my Newsletter — it’s where I share thoughtful updates, first looks, and occasional peeks into my studio. And if you’d like to stay up to date on my latest posts and stories, you can follow me on Instagram.

If you're a student in one of my courses and would like to share your artwork in a gentle, non-performative way, I’ve created a simple PDF called “Connecting through Community.” It walks you through how to post your work on Pinterest and Instagram using hashtags, no Facebook required. It’s meant to encourage quiet connection, not overwhelm.