In less than a week, 7,000 people could lose their jobs, millions of creators could lose their voices, and small businesses could lose their audiences—all because politicians decided to kill a platform without a fair fight.
This isn’t about dance trends or viral memes. It’s about erasing a space where creators, businesses, and entire communities connect, learn, and survive. And for what? National security theater? Corporate greed?
My Love-Hate Relationship with Social Media
I built my career on platforms like Facebook and Instagram. I loved the connection, the engagement, and the opportunities. I taught classes, grew communities, and built brands. But over time, the joy faded.
Algorithms shifted. Engagement dropped. Content became a commodity. Platforms I once loved morphed into pay-to-play machines, where authenticity was buried under metrics.
But TikTok? It felt human again.
TikTok Was Different Than Other Social Media Platforms
No, TikTok isn’t perfect. And honestly, I might be eating all of my words if we found out more— But it cracked open the social media landscape. It gave marginalized voices a platform, allowed small businesses to reach real customers, and let creators build without feeding the algorithm beast.
Personally, it’s been life-changing. I’ve learned more about my body and health on TikTok than I ever did in years of navigating a broken healthcare system. The platform connected me to ideas and solutions I could confirm with my doctors—information I might never have found otherwise.
TikTok isn’t just an app. It’s the pulse of modern culture. It’s where ideas are born, where movements take shape, and where people find community.
Why This TikTok Ban Feels Personal
I don’t want to give Meta another dollar or second of my time. Watching a tech giant lobby to ban its competition instead of innovating is infuriating. This isn’t about protecting consumers—it’s about crushing competition.
Banning TikTok isn’t solving a problem. It’s creating one.
It’s not protecting Americans. It’s punishing them.
It’s silencing creators. It’s destroying small businesses. It’s stripping marginalized voices of their audiences.
And it sets a terrifying precedent: if a platform becomes too powerful, too influential, or too disruptive, it can simply be erased.
No Advice. Just Grief.
I don’t have a rallying cry this time. No steps to fight back.
I’m just heartbroken.
Heartbroken for the 7,000 TikTok employees who might be jobless by next week.
Heartbroken for creators and marketers whose income vanishes overnight.
Heartbroken for the marginalized voices who will lose their most effective platform for advocacy.
And selfishly? I’m heartbroken for myself. For the health insights I’ve gained (thank you too menopause TikTok for teaching me more than my doctors ever did post cancer).
For the communities I’ve discovered. For the cultural space that feels more alive than anywhere else online.
Losing TikTok is more than losing an app. It’s losing a vital part of our collective voice.
Let’s not fool ourselves. This isn’t about safety. It’s about control. And the people who will lose the most are the ones who needed this platform the most.