Finding Purpose and Community: Reflections on the Proposed TikTok Ban
It seems increasingly likely that the United States Supreme Court will uphold the TikTok ban proposed by Congress, set to go into effect on January 19. This decision raises countless questions for the thousands of creators who rely on the app for their personal brands, businesses, and livelihoods. As someone active on TikTok—albeit with a relatively new and modest account—I am devastated by this prospect.
Two months ago, the company I worked for announced that the store I’d managed for over a decade would be closing in mid-December. I felt lost and discouraged, but I also saw an opportunity to find something better. The problem? I hadn’t been through a job interview—or any part of the hiring process—since 2014. It felt like stepping into a foreign world, one I was both awkwardly unprepared for and reluctantly thrust into. Still, I told myself I could adapt and figure things out.
As a backup plan, I bought a domain, started an LLC, and began building this website—despite having no experience with web design. (Shoutout to ChatGPT for being my unofficial tech consultant.) I decided to channel my lifelong love of books into becoming a BookTok creator. I started brainstorming video ideas, drafting book reviews, and sketching out what my content might look like. And then, as I dove into the work, I stumbled upon something extraordinary: I discovered a new passion.
I love creating content. From designing and building a website to writing blog posts and filming videos, every step of the process brought me joy. Even the things I dreaded—like hearing my own raspy voice on camera or confronting my insecurities under harsh lighting—became tolerable because the final product felt worth it. Knowing that people out there valued my content, even in small ways, made me feel like I mattered. In the mundanity of a life where I was simply going through the motions, I suddenly had a reason to get out of bed, a purpose bigger than myself.
TikTok gave me that purpose.
Seeing the very first video I uploaded—a rapid-fire review of my favorite reads of 2024—still getting views and likes astounds me. I was terrified to make that post, unsure if it would resonate with others or just make me look foolish. While it didn’t go viral (I keep my expectations realistic), it did find an audience. To this day, it still gets comments and engagement. That one small video gave me the courage to keep going, to push through my discomfort and create more. It reminded me that what I share matters, even in a small way.
And now, TikTok is being taken away.
Sure, other platforms exist. But none come close to TikTok’s unique blend of community and discovery. Instagram, for instance, feels impenetrable—especially for someone like me, who struggles with interpersonal communication due to neurodivergence. And after Meta’s recent decision to scale back its DEI programs and remove fact-checking guardrails, I’m not eager to support their platforms. X (formerly Twitter) is a non-starter for me, and while BlueSky has been promising, it doesn’t quite fill the void TikTok’s loss will leave.
TikTok created a space where like-minded people could gather, share, and build communities. It isn’t perfect—sometimes, as an older male user, I feel a bit out of place in a space dominated by younger creators—but for the most part, it’s a platform where genuine value is exchanged. And it’s not just about books. TikTok’s neurodivergent community has taught me more about my own mind in a few months than I could have learned in years on my own.
When I discovered I had traits of Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA), TikTok introduced me to experts and fellow neurodivergents who offered practical advice. I’ve seen people share their experiences of late-in-life ADHD and autism diagnoses, often after their children were diagnosed, and describe how their pasts suddenly made sense. These stories aren’t just relatable—they’re life-changing.
And that’s the core of what TikTok offers: community. A place where people don’t hide behind a screen but stand in front of it. A space where exciting news can be shared with strangers, and the algorithm connects it with others who’ll celebrate it too. For a socially awkward introvert like me, it’s a lifeline—one that’s now at risk of being severed.
I could go on about freedom of speech or the hypocrisy of banning TikTok for its ties to China while turning a blind eye to U.S.-based platforms that cozy up to politicians and peddle misinformation. (It’s the kind of doublespeak Orwell warned us about.) But that’s a tangent for another essay.
What I want to say is this: losing TikTok feels personal. It feels like having the rug pulled out from under me just as I found my footing. But even in this frustration, I have hope. People are resilient. We will find new ways—maybe even better ones—to connect, share, and create joy.
Until then, I’ll keep reading, writing, and posting here on this blog. Maybe I’ll film a video or two for YouTube. If you’ve enjoyed my content, I’d love for you to follow me on TikTok while we still have it—just search @ryanreadsandwrites. Every new follower still gives me a thrill, and it would truly make my day! If TikTok disappears, you can also find me on BlueSky (same username) or YouTube (Ryan.Reads.Writes). Wherever we land next, I hope to see you there.
