Last week, I opened Instagram for “just five minutes” before bed. An hour later, I had seven items in different shopping carts, a screenshots folder full of “aesthetic” products, and zero idea why I suddenly needed a cloud lamp.
A cloud lamp. To put on my ceiling. That costs $25.
I don’t even like ambient lighting that much.
The Algorithm Knows Me Better Than I Know Myself
Here’s what’s scary: social media platforms are designed to figure out exactly what makes you click. And once they know, they show you more of it.
I watched ONE YouTube Short about cute stationery. Just one. Now my entire feed is:
- Aesthetic desk setups with expensive organizers
- “Amazon must-haves” for students
- Haul videos of people buying things I didn’t know existed
- “Get ready with me” videos featuring products I apparently need
Instagram Reels? Same thing. I see one clothing haul, and suddenly my entire explore page is fashion content and shopping links.
And the worst part? It works.
I’ve caught myself thinking: “Oh, THAT’S why my desk doesn’t look good. I need those specific drawer organizers.” Never mind that my desk was fine yesterday. Never mind that I have organizers already.
Social media convinced me I had a problem I didn’t have, then sold me the solution.
The Highlight Reel Effect
Everyone on social media looks like they have their life together. Their rooms are perfectly decorated. Their outfits are always coordinated. They have the latest phone accessories, the trendiest snacks, the cutest everything.
What we don’t see:
- The mess outside the camera frame
- The fact that they might’ve returned half that stuff
- That they’re showing you their best day, not their everyday
- That they might be in debt from buying all that
But our brains don’t register that. We just see: “Everyone has this except me. I must be missing out.”
I used to feel weird about my plain folders and basic school supplies. Then I saw people with color-coordinated everything and aesthetic notes and fancy highlighters. Suddenly, my perfectly functional stuff felt inadequate.
That’s not reality. That’s comparison.
The “It’s Only $X” Trap
Social media is REALLY good at making things seem cheap.
“Only $8!” “Just $12!” “Under $15!”
And each individual item IS cheap. But here’s what happened to me last month:
I saw a cute hair clip set: $6 Then aesthetic sticky notes: $5 A trending snack everyone was trying: $7 A phone stand that looked useful: $9 Socks with a design I liked: $8
That’s $35. On stuff I didn’t need and mostly don’t use. But because each purchase felt small, I didn’t realize I was spending real money.
Social media makes you think in individual purchases, not total spending. It’s sneaky like that.
FOMO Is Expensive
“Everyone’s getting this!” “It’s selling out!” “Last day of the sale!” “Limited edition!”
Social media creates artificial urgency. It makes you feel like if you don’t buy something RIGHT NOW, you’ll miss out forever.
I’ve bought things because I was scared they’d be gone. Then they sat in my closet for months. Turns out, missing out on a trendy item is not actually a crisis.
The fear of missing out costs money. And most of what we’re “missing out” on doesn’t actually matter.
The Subtle Ads That Don’t Feel Like Ads
The sneakiest part about social media shopping is that it doesn’t always feel like shopping.
Someone’s just “sharing their favorites.” They’re just “showing what’s in their bag.” They’re just “doing a room tour.”
But there’s a link. There’s always a link. And when someone you follow and like recommends something, it feels more like a friend’s suggestion than an advertisement.
Except they might be getting paid for it. Or they’re an influencer whose literal job is to make you want things.
I’m not saying everyone’s fake or that all recommendations are bad. But I AM saying we need to remember: just because someone we admire has something doesn’t mean we need it too.
What I Started Doing Differently
After realizing I’d spent almost $80 in one month on random stuff from social media, I made some changes:
1. I stopped shopping on my phone during “bored” scrolling If I see something I want, I don’t click through immediately. I screenshot it and add it to my Wait List instead.
2. I unfollowed accounts that made me feel broke or inadequate Some accounts are just constant haul videos and shopping content. They’re fun to watch but terrible for my wallet. I unfollowed them. I don’t miss them.
3. I ask myself: “Did I want this yesterday?” If I didn’t even know this product existed 24 hours ago, I probably don’t actually need it. My life was fine without it yesterday. It’ll be fine without it tomorrow.
4. I limit shopping app time I deleted shopping apps from my phone’s home screen and turned off all notifications. If I want to buy something, I have to actively decide to open the app. No more mindless browsing.
5. I screenshot my cart before checking out Then I close the app. If I still want those items in 48 hours, I’ll go back. Usually, I forget about them.
The Real Cost of Social Media Shopping
It’s not just the money (though that matters). It’s also:
Mental space: Constantly thinking about things I want but don’t have is exhausting.
Clutter: My room was getting full of stuff I bought on impulse and barely used.
Guilt: Every time I bought something I didn’t need, I felt bad afterward.
Lost opportunities: Money I spent on random stuff was money I couldn’t save for things I actually cared about.
What Changed
I still use social media. I still see products. But now I’m more aware of what’s happening.
When I see something and immediately want it, I pause and think:
- Am I wanting this because I need it, or because someone made it look appealing?
- Would I want this if I saw it in a regular store without the aesthetic video?
- Is this solving a problem I actually have?
Most of the time, the answer is no.
And you know what’s weird? My life didn’t get worse when I stopped buying all that stuff. It actually got better. Less clutter, less stress, more money for things that matter.
The Bottom Line
Social media isn’t evil. But it IS designed to make us want things. That’s literally how it makes money—through ads, affiliate links, and sponsored content.
Understanding that doesn’t make you immune to it, but it does make you more aware.
You don’t need the cloud lamp. You don’t need the aesthetic desk setup. You don’t need whatever trending item everyone’s buying this week.
You just need to remember: the people showing you their perfect lives are curating what you see. Your real life, with your regular stuff, is perfectly fine.
Maybe even better than fine, because at least it’s real.
What’s the weirdest thing social media almost convinced you to buy? Mine was definitely that cloud lamp.