I Just Wish No One Had One: What I’ve Learned about Social Media as a Clinical Psychologist

By: Natasha Schvey, PhD, Licensed Clinical Psychologist

In a recent session with my 13-year old patient, she said something that stuck

with me. She was tearfully recounting her unhealthy relationship with social media ─

how she repeatedly tries and then fails to quit platforms like TikTok, YouTube, and

SnapChat. She has the insight to recognize how harmful they are to her mental health,

but (like all adolescents) she lacks the enormous amount of self-regulation required to

quit. “Ugh I just wish no one had one,” she said, tossing her phone onto the chair. I

asked her to say more. She articulated to me the fundamental crisis facing so many

teens: she hates the impact her phone has on her mood, body image, and sleep, but

would hate even more feeling left out by not having it. If only no one had one. I was

taken aback by her insight.

She is by no means the only adolescent I have spoken to who feels this way. I

am a licensed clinical psychologist who provides care for children and teens

experiencing disordered eating and weight-related concerns. Nearly without exception,

their symptoms and distress are promoted, exacerbated, or maintained by their use of

social media. Online bullying and cruel comments about appearance are ubiquitous

through messaging platforms. In one heartbreaking example, a patient told me that a

picture of her at the gym had been taken and posted (without her consent) with a

caption about how much she needed to work out in order to lose weight. I was seeing

her at the time for anxiety and disordered eating. Of course, this experience had a

devastating impact on her.

In addition to the messaging apps, the adolescents with whom I work regularly

encounter harmful content online. From restrictive 1200 calorie meal plans recklessly

pushed by unqualified coaches or “experts,” unregulated supplements being shilled by

influencers, heavily filtered and edited pictures of lean and toned bodies, to the

disturbing trend of platforms glorifying or promoting eating disorders (e.g., SkinnyTok or

pro-ana pages), the social media landscape is grim and particularly dangerous to those

most vulnerable: our children. Prior to social media, children might compare their

appearance or bodies to their peers at school, magazine covers, or the stars of their

favorite shows or movies. Now, kids have hundreds of thousands of comparisons at

their fingertips every day─ many around their own age, which has the effect of making

unrealistic ideals seem nearly within reach, if they could just work out a little more, eat a

little less, or try a little harder.

The children I care for clinically are bright, insightful, high-achieving, and come

from loving families. They have so many advantages, so much going for them, and yet,

they feel so helpless in their relationship with social media. I frequently check-in with

them about how they feel after a session of scrolling. Almost unanimously they tell me

they feel much worse─ about themselves, their bodies, their lives, and even their

futures. If there was a teacher at their school who had the same effect, parents would

be outraged and demand answers. Yet, so many of these children retreat to their

bedrooms night after night, with unregulated access to content that erodes their self-

confidence and self-worth.

The problem is not just what social media is adding, it’s also what it is replacing

in our children’s lives. Every hour scrolling means an hour less for family game nights,

spending time with a friend, reading a book, or even just finishing homework and getting

to sleep at a reasonable time. Children lack the self-regulation needed to limit their

screen time (and frankly most adults do as well). As the adults in their lives, however, it

is incumbent upon us to intervene.

This holiday season, as kids make their wish lists, and inevitably put a

smartphone near the top, we must be decisive and clear. For instance, we can establish

consensus with like-minded friends and family; be consistent and firm in our messaging,

rather than kicking the can down the road or appearing wishy-washy; or suggest

exciting and novel screen-free alternative gift ideas. For older kids, we can begin to

share the science with them─ how social media companies engineer their programs

with specific intention to hijack and monetize our attention and make it virtually

impossible to stop scrolling. We can also share the data we have amassed over the

past decades ─ almost unequivocally, greater social media use is linked with poor

outcomes in kids. In a dose-response manner, social media makes nearly every

important marker of child psychosocial health worse. There is little justification for a

cost-benefit analysis when the costs are so steep and the benefits so nominal. When

children ask for a phone or access to social media and are denied, they are expected to

feel upset and frustrated. Likewise, parents are expected to hold their boundaries.

In the times when my own children tell me I’m being unfair, unreasonable, or too

strict, I think of my client. At only 13, she is already wistful and nostalgic for the screen-

free part of her childhood. Sometimes the best gift we can give is prolonging this most

precious part, even if just for a little bit longer.