TikTok is supposedly being banned from the United States on January 19th, and I’m not opposed to the idea. Despite the popular social media app having amassed over 170 million American users over the years, U.S. government officials are finally drawing a line in the sand: to ensure the safety and privacy of American citizens, TikTok has got to go. 

I’ve been on TikTok since 2018. I remember receiving my very first phone on the Christmas of sixth grade and, I’m not even kidding, the first thing I did was download TikTok. My close friends had had phones for years, and I was through with watching them indulge in social media from the sidelines. Dramatic, I know, but there’s something about seeing other people have something you don’t– it only makes you want it more. 

TikTok was thrilling with its fast-paced content and vibrant community. When I was younger it was the cringe dance videos and obviously fake couple pranks that captured my attention, but as I got older I found more specific enclaves within the TikTok community that deepened my love for the app. I can only imagine it was the hours upon hours of watching TikToks that caused my algorithm to become perfectly tailored to me, and I discovered creators and content that aligned with my hobbies and interests. I’d like to think that I wasn’t just consuming goofy, mindless videos, but artistic expressions. I indulged in videos showcasing art and design, travel vlogs, fashion, book recommendations and reviews, and even movie breakdowns–all things I love. 

So, yes, for a while I believed TikTok wasn’t too bad a thing. It was simply a place where I could get inspiration and indulge in the things that I loved. Sure, I was probably indulging a few hours too many every day but hey, how bad could that be? Well, pretty bad I’d come to find. It was just last semester in my Dual Credit English class that my wonderful teacher, Mrs. Currin showed my class a video she found important for us to see. It was a TedX talk about the overconsumption of social media.  In it, the speaker stood before a simple visual– dozens of white dots. Each dot, he explained, represented one month in the average adult life after the age of 18. As he spoke, he filled in the dots category by category, starting with the average person’s time spent on daily routines: sleeping filled in about a third of the dots, 126 dots were filled in for the months spent on school and career, 18 for driving, 36 for cooking and eating, 36 for chores and errands, and 27 dots for using the restroom and maintaining basic hygiene. Behind him, the filled-in dots dominated the graphic, over half of the months in this hypothetical life already used up. The remaining dots, he explained, would ideally be used for passions, interests, spending time with loved ones, ticking items off bucket lists. But then came the kicker: he revealed that today, the average 18-year-old would use 93% of those remaining dots indulging in screen time. There were only 22 dots left. 22 months. 22 months left to do the things you want to do and 22 months left to live. 

Frankly, the video freaked me out. I knew that spending too much time on my phone was bad for me, but to have it visually displayed for me, the mere few dots taunting me from the screen? Terrifying. Honestly, in the middle of my usually goofy and unserious English class, I was internally spiraling. How many months had I spent on social media already in my lifetime? Was I running out of time? I was practically born with a phone in my hand, so how was I supposed to escape the seemingly inevitable demise my life because of social media? I’ve thought about that video a lot. One thing I knew already but came to understand deeply after that video was this fact: life is finite, and every second is precious. Why waste it scrolling?

That brings me to today. TikTok’s being banned tomorrow (I think?… The news says something new every hour), and it seems like almost everyone is losing their minds. If you had told me a year ago that TikTok would be terminated, I probably would’ve fallen in that crowd too. Now though, I’m at peace with the emerging ban, and I believe it will have a profound impact on the American people–in a good way. I see its departure as an opportunity for change for me and TikTok users alike. I’m sure many TikTok refugees will inevitably flock to similar substitutes like Instagram Reels and YouTube shorts, heck, even Snapchat spotlights, desperate to replicate the instant gratification that TikTok offered. But maybe this is a chance to break free from the cycle altogether– to finally reclaim those dots. 

Instead of scrambling to replace TikTok with another platform, why not use its new absence to reclaim our time? In TikTok’s own language: I think people should finally force themselves to “touch grass”. All jokes aside, I mean it. Previous TikTok users should use the ban as an opportunity to focus on the things that matter, feed their passions, and make good out of a situation they may not like. Take the time you’d usually spend scrolling the for you page before bed to read a few chapters of a book. Try a new hobby, craft something, spend time outside! A forced digital detox might just be exactly what we need. With no TikTok, former TikTok users will be…bored. Boredom is good–it’s where creativity is forced to thrive and where people can finally reconnect with themselves, their interests, and the world around them. 

The loss of TikTok offers us a chance to reflect on how we fill our days, and that’s not a bad thing. For those who are mourning the change, consider this an opportunity to step away from the endless scroll and rediscover who you are beyond technology and social media. Remember: those dots are still there, waiting to be filled. Maybe, after January 19th, we’ll find ourselves filling them with moments that truly matter.