Why the love-hate relationship between writer and the social media platform ended and what we can learn as a result
Can you believe it's been nearly a year since Twitter began its dramatic nose-dive into obscurity? I’ve watched my digital public square crumble since Elon Musk took the reins in October 2022.
For some, its demise has been a slow trickle extending beyond the past year. As more social networks took over our lives and news like the Cambridge Analytica scandal emerged, many faced the fact that social media had become a breeding ground for disinformation campaigns, impacting national and international governments and lives. As a result, some said goodbye to not only Twitter but also to Facebook.
For others, like myself, the sudden chaos when Musk took over was hard to swallow. I had been a loyal user of the platform since its beginnings, and it felt like I was witnessing my home's destruction. Since last October, I have tweeted a handful of times, but when Musk decided to throw away 15+ years of name recognition and call “his” platform X, that was my last straw. I deleted the app from my phone and signed out for the last time from my desktop.
Twitter’s beginnings
It hasn't all been bad. In fact, for me, Twitter was an incredible journey, full of thoughtful conversations about current events, pop culture, TV shows, movies, and if tofu bacon paired better with rosé or chardonnay (an actual conversation I had with about 15 people at one point).
I connected with others who shared my passion for wine and cheese.
I met people who hired me to help them with social media (like @InsideSonoma, the Twitter account of the Sonoma County Tourism Bureau, or @IronHorseVyds, a client for eight-plus years), lifelong friends (going on 15 years with some), and people that introduced me to my husband.
It felt like home because I could connect with others who shared the same passions.
Elon takes over
I remember my horror on Nov. 17 when I learned that Musk had fired so many folks that Twitter was now left without enough hands on deck to keep the engine running. And I remember when he invited all the previously booted high-profile users back to the party, including the ever-polarizing former President Donald Trump.
And let's not forget when Musk fiddled with the platform’s verification system, turning it into a laughing stock with people paying $8–$15 to pretend they were famous brands, tanking their stock prices with one tweet.
It's not just the headline-making moves, though. The recurring technical glitches — link troubles, rate limitations, and the end of third-party collaborations — have been as irritating as a popcorn kernel stuck in your teeth. These cultural and technical issues have given us all the sinking feeling that our favorite bird had flown off-course.
And when we thought Twitter couldn't get any weirder, it sent its final tweet.
Twitter has been transformed into something entirely unrecognizable. In a bold move, Elon rebranded the platform to "X" — quite the departure from the little blue bird I’ve come to know and (sometimes) love. I even have a version of a Twitter bird tattooed on my arm. It’s close to a small camera that represents Instagram.
Throughout this exhausting Twitterpocalypse, I’ve grappled with an unexpected emotion: shame. The shame of being gut-punched by the collapse of a social media platform. It's not like I was supposed to fall in love with Twitter, right?
But that's the thing about us humans: we're complex. We tend to develop attachments to the most unexpected things. Twitter could be a thorn in our side, but the love-hate relationship was part of the charm.
After all, Twitter was a space for making connections, sharing thoughts, and occasionally roasting each other (I was very stubborn that tofu bacon paired with rosé, not the chardonnay).
You won’t find me calling Twitter ‘X’ anytime soon
Despite my own best efforts to downplay my emotional connection to this digital platform, I feel a bit heartbroken.
Studies have found that online interactions can increase feelings of companionship and emotional engagement, and I have felt this firsthand. I mean, I've never met some of my social media friends in person, but I have had genuine conversations with them. These virtual relationships became particularly valuable during the pandemic when many interactions shifted online.
Beyond the emotional connection, the loss of Twitter as a cultural archive is tough to swallow.
Imagine 16 years' worth of content — tweets, hashtags, memes, stories, group chats, and more — just erased. All those human connections, professional networks, moments of shared joy, sadness, humor, and real-time narration of life … poof, gone.
No matter how you slice it, that's a hefty cultural and emotional loss.
The old version of Twitter deserves our sincere respect. It was a virtual town square, a birthplace for hashtags, and the platform for countless social movements. It was also a melting pot where celebrities, professionals, trolls, and average Joes could interact on somewhat level fields. Last month I wrote about Threads which was launched by Meta, but after a few weeks of hype, much of the fanfare died down, and I now see only a handful of people posting to that network.
That still won't bring me back to Twitter or X.
I feel like I am losing more than just a platform — I’m losing friends, content, and cherished memories. I cherished the old Twitter, even doom-scrolled until my fingers cramped during the last two elections.
In truth, the true tragedy isn't that I spent endless hours scrolling on this digital platform. The real heartbreak is that those responsible for its downfall don't even realize what they've lost. The once vibrant platform is now just a shadow of its former self.
Yes, it had ads. Yes, it had a lot of negative trolls. But what I am mourning is what Twitter was initially meant to be: a foundation for connections and conversations that are just as real and important as those I’ve had offline — that was the beauty of Twitter.
And if X is a platform that works for you to connect with your customers — keep going. This is just one social media manager's take on the social networking platform, but this might be their customers' leading network for others. And if that is the case, then carry on.
We can all learn something from Twitter’s rise and fall: creating a platform that respects its users, offers thoughtful content, and encourages conversations is essential. The world still needs platforms like this. Maybe X will become one of them.
Until then, I'm saying goodbye for now — with no plans of returning.
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