Without a filter, I saw my face and cried. This is the reality for teens on social media

I regret joining social media.

In the five years since I first signed up, aged 13, I’ve had many positive experiences. But even with those, on balance, social media has had an overwhelmingly negative impact on my life.

Raising age restrictions on social media would help some Australian teenagers with comparison culture and the normalisation of filters.Credit: iStock

And now, as an 18-year-old, I’m so wrapped up in it, using multiple platforms as my main form of communication, quitting would mean losing many connections. Yet even knowing that, I agree with the push – backed by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese – to introduce a social media ban for Australian children aged under 16. A ban would protect young people from getting caught up in a world that’s hard to escape; it would also tackle the problem experts have identified as the rapidly declining mental health of young Australians.

As I said, I’ve had my ups and downs with social media. In high school, I reached a point where I would cover the mirror in my bedroom with a sheet of paper to avoid seeing my own reflection. The only time I willingly looked at myself was through the lens of Snapchat, with a beauty filter applied.

One time, when the beauty filter wouldn’t work, I remember staring at myself in the camera and breaking down crying over the reality of my appearance. Why couldn’t my face be as perfect as the ones I was seeing on my phone?

It’s natural for a teenager to have self-doubts and to feel peer pressure, and I know now this mindset stemmed from something bigger than social media alone. But it took those doubts and built them into a sometimes crippling anxiety.

On Snapchat, there’s a button that allows users to automatically enhance your skin and teeth. I turned it on the first time I used the app and can’t imagine turning it off, even today. There are hundreds of filters that allow you to change your entire appearance with just one click. Beyond the insecurities these filters create for the person posting the images, they also affect viewers. Scrolling through thousands of these distorted images and videos had a huge impact on my self-esteem.

I’ve wasted so much money buying whichever new “life-saving” skincare or make-up product TikTok recommended. In year 11, I spent almost one hour each night obsessing over my appearance while indulging in an elaborate skincare routine that social media promised would give me clear and glowing skin. There were days I struggled going to school, purely because I was so worried about the way I looked.

I feel like I’ve finally escaped this toxic mindset. Not completely, but enough that I can see how ridiculous the measures I took to avoid my face were and write about it.

It makes me sad to think about the time I wasted being preoccupied with something that truly shouldn’t matter. It makes me angry to reflect on how much of the anxiety and worry I experienced could have been prevented if I had stopped scrolling and scrolling … and scrolling.

I’ve had some great experiences with it, though, too. When I was 13, social media gave me the chance to start an art account, which helped me think about turning my passion into a career. I shared my sewing projects and watercolour paintings, and the positive feedback kept me motivated and excited.

At the start of COVID-19, social media initially worked as a motivator for me. I would scroll through posts of people my age who were starting careers as influencers or turning their hobbies into viable careers, and I felt inspired to do the same. My cousin, a friend and I created a group account, and through Instagram, we were inspired to sell our work at a local market. My mum is now a full-time painter, something she could achieve only because of social media.

Without Instagram, many aspiring artists and professionals wouldn’t get the exposure they need to break into tough fields. Social media gives young people opportunities that traditional paths just can’t offer. However, while it offers these opportunities, it also creates a pressure to achieve and showcase success, which can be overwhelming.

When I first heard the discussion about raising the social media age limit to 16 in Australia, I felt envy. I envied the next generation, that they would have the chance to experience a healthier, more mentally enriching adolescence, potentially free from the pressures I endured.

Perhaps, it’s unrealistic to believe that setting an age limit will actually stop kids under 16 from using social media. But at the very least, it would make both parents and kids take the risks more seriously.

Social media’s influence extends beyond the screen, subtly but significantly changing how we live and perceive ourselves. A ban wouldn’t be about taking something away but about giving the next generation a chance at a more authentic, balanced life.

Kids Helpline: 1800 551 800

Lucia Frazzetto is a first-year university student pursuing a Bachelor of Arts with a psychology major, aspiring to a future in social work.

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