The Algorithm Wants Me to Feel This Way

Not gonna lie, I completely forgot I launched this blog a couple weeks ago.

Until I had one of those rare and still mom moments of wondering “what should I be doing right now..” and then it happened. I was overtaken by that specific anxiety that feels like…like…like people waiting. But not just some people… all the people.

It’s not the same anxiety as forgetting a task — it’s deeper, like you’ve missed a deadline that no one gave you, but everyone somehow expects you to meet. Like it’s an obligation you didn’t sign up for but are forced into like it’s Kafka.

Guys, this is the trap!

We’ve internalized an anxiety of urgency that’s not ours.
It was built. It was engineered. It was designed. It never came from us.

We aren’t just connected by the internet, we’re conditioned by it.
And one of its most powerful conditions is this: the feeling that we’re always behind.

It used to be that social life had boundaries. Time and place dictated what you knew, who you saw, when you showed up. Then social media collapsed all those boundaries. Now, everything happens everywhere, all the time. Everyone’s reachable. Everything is relevant. Every minute not spent engaging feels like a minute lost.

And it’s not just social media anymore — it’s the whole system.
The pace of production. The always-on marketing. The gamified hustle culture.
Even the tools meant to “help” — AI, automation, templates — end up accelerating the pace until your own sense of time and accomplishment feels warped.

Spend a few hours using AI to knock out weeks’ worth of work, and your brain doesn’t go, Wow, what a great productivity win! It short-circuits. It feels like you’ve time-traveled and left your body behind.

This pressure — to be visible, valuable, and optimized at all times — is exhausting. It pushes us out of presence. It makes real connection harder. And it fuels a kind of cultural burnout that’s hard to name because it’s so embedded in how we live.

When speed becomes the default, stillness starts to feel like failure.
When sharing becomes a performance, reflection starts to feel like indulgence.
And when “value” is measured by engagement, what happens to the things we make for their own sake?

Some of the best ideas, stories, relationships, and insights come from the places we let breathe. The thoughts we don’t share right away. The ones we sit with, chew on, and allow to evolve.

Feeling behind, or guilty for not posting, or overwhelmed by the pace — that’s not a failure.
It’s the algorithm working exactly as intended.

Anyways, I remembered that I had a blog. Thanks for reading.

HC