How Staying Off Social Media for 11 Years Shaped Our Sons' Boyhood
A Decade Without Social Media: How It Changed Our Sons

Long before governments considered bans, one family in New Delhi made a conscious choice: to log off from the dominant social platforms. In 2014, Swati Prasad and her husband deleted their Facebook accounts. Their sons were both under ten years old. This decision, made over a decade ago, fundamentally altered the landscape of their children's upbringing, a choice whose resonance is felt strongly in December 2025, as countries like Australia enact bans for the young.

The Offline Childhood in a Connected World

The family's social media presence became confined largely to LinkedIn for professional updates and WhatsApp for communication. As their sons grew, they evolved into distinct individuals, seemingly untouched by the relentless scroll of platforms like Instagram, Snapchat, or Facebook. The older son, now at university, developed a passion for organic gardening, frequenting gaushalas and national parks, and volunteering at animal-rescue centres. The younger, a 15-year-old, is a dedicated musician and footballer, adept at guitar, drums, and composition.

They are, undoubtedly, digital natives. They watch YouTube, play mobile games, and understand Gen Z slang and memes. Yet, they have never created accounts on the major social networks. The younger son faced peer pressure three years ago to join but now feels no compulsion, occasionally glimpsing his friends' online worlds through their shared screens. Both boys have expressed difficulties with some peers, noting classmates who follow controversial influencers, speak poorly of girls, or consume unsettling content.

Navigating Social Dynamics and Professional Expectations

The real-world implications of this digital choice became clear in recent interactions. At a rock school, the author met 21-year-old Rohan, a recent graduate navigating the gig economy through content writing and musical performances. The guitar teacher's request for an Instagram handle to tag her son's performance highlighted the family's outlier status; they provided a relative's account instead.

Even professional networking posed questions. A friend suggested the sons should at least be on LinkedIn—the younger to share music, the older to showcase internships and research. While the mother agreed initially, a revealing moment occurred when she showed her older son a classmate's enthusiastic post about volunteering. His response was blunt: "Ma, volunteering is a fancy word. He was just ferrying boxes from one room to another." This underscored a different philosophy: a discomfort with curated digital selves and "flexing."

The Realisation: Comfort in the Choice

The author's recent nudge for her older son to create a LinkedIn profile was met with reluctant acquiescence: "Fine, I’ll do it if you really want me to." This response, however, was a turning point. It led to a crucial realisation. "This isn’t about the 'need' to be on social media. It’s about the comfort of not being on it," she concluded. The decision to step back was not about deprivation but about fostering an environment where not participating was a valid and comfortable option.

When the family quit Facebook in 2014, they couldn't have foreseen that by 2025, nations would legislate against youth social media use or mandate mental health warnings. They were simply carving their own path. Their sons, now teenagers and young adults, have developed critical perspectives, distinct interests, and a palpable unease with the performative aspects of online life. The family's experiment, now spanning over eleven years, suggests that raising boys away from the constant buzz of social feeds can cultivate independent thinking, deeper real-world engagements, and a resilience to peer trends. As the world grapples with the harms of social media, their story offers a lived-in perspective on the alternative.