A video posted on a whim. A blog started in search of connection. An account created to share everyday moments.
For Yoshoda Andrêa Naicker, Diolan Govender and Shanèy Vijendranath, social media began as a way to express themselves, connect with others and share parts of their lives.
Over time, those platforms became something bigger: opportunities to build communities, develop careers and reach people they might never otherwise have met.
But the experience also came with a less visible cost.
From cruel comments about appearance and the pressure to measure up to other people's achievements to strangers questioning parenting decisions, the three South Africans have experienced how online interactions can influence confidence, self-worth and emotional wellbeing.
Their stories highlight the complicated relationship many people have with social media: a space that can offer connection and encouragement while leaving users feeling inadequate, exposed or overwhelmed.
From a viral video to a struggle with body image
Speaking to The Post, 24-year-old Yoshoda Andrêa Naicker, from Pinetown, said social media began with a birthday surprise from her late father.
He bought her a cellphone, and excited by the gift, she immediately posted a video on TikTok.
She did not expect much from it. The following morning, however, she woke up to find that she had gained 1,000 followers.
“My now-late dad surprised me with a cellphone for my birthday. I was so excited that I immediately posted a video on TikTok, not expecting much from it. The next morning I woke up to 1 000 followers and was in total awe,” she recalled.
Naicker began creating voiceovers to make people laugh. Messages from viewers telling her that her videos had brightened their days encouraged her to keep posting.
The primary school and online teacher never imagined that social media would become such a significant part of her life. It even played a role in her meeting her husband, Nicylan.
But about a year into her content creation journey, the experience took a painful turn.
After being diagnosed with polycystic ovary syndrome (PCOS), which she says was associated with rapid weight gain, Naicker became the target of hurtful comments about her appearance.
“I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (now Polyendocrine Metabolic Ovarian Syndrome), which caused rapid weight gain. People said horrible things about how I looked, and it affected the way I felt about myself. The confidence I once had became a distant memory,” she said.
Although she acknowledged the changes in her body, she refused to accept that weight gain justified the cruelty directed at her.
She eventually began to recognise that hurtful comments could reflect the insecurities of those making them, rather than define the person receiving them.
“I agreed that I gained weight, but I will never agree with bullying or tearing someone down for the way they look,” she said.
Naicker now uses her platform to encourage others to embrace themselves, regardless of their body size or complexion.
“Our body size and complexion do not define our worth. We can either let hate bring us down or rise above it and embrace who we are.”
She has also reduced the amount of content she posts to protect her peace and mental health.
The danger of comparing real life with online highlights
For Durban's Diolan Govender, 24, social media has been part of his life since 2013, when he began sharing random moments online.
Over time, his content evolved to include his career, lifestyle and other interests.
In 2024, he noticed audiences increasingly engaging with his posts, particularly on TikTok, where he gradually built a community of like-minded people.
As his profile grew, however, he also became more aware of the impact social media was having on his mental wellbeing.
The public relations and marketing consultant said that, when he was younger, he did not fully understand how to navigate the emotions that came with being visible online.
“Social media is largely built around people sharing the highlights of their lives. You rarely see the grey areas, so it becomes easy to compare your everyday life to someone else’s highlights,” he explained.
It is a familiar trap: scrolling through promotions, holidays, relationships, business achievements and seemingly effortless success, then measuring one's own progress against what appears on the screen.
Govender found that this comparison could lead to anxiety and self-doubt.
Even posting content, which should have been an enjoyable or creative experience, sometimes became a source of worry.
He would overthink how a post might be received, how others would perceive him and whether people would respond positively.
“I then realised I needed to become more conscious of the relationship I had with social media, rather than allowing it to dictate how I felt about myself,” he said.
Last year, he made a conscious decision to change that relationship.
It was not an overnight transformation. Instead, it required consistent effort, a shift in mindset and greater awareness of how much influence he allowed online interactions to have over his thoughts.
He also became more intentional about the content he consumed, choosing material that aligned with his aspirations and the person he wanted to become.
Social media remains an important part of his life and career, but he says it no longer controls his thoughts or determines his self-worth.
His advice to people who find themselves comparing their lives with those they follow is to remember that someone else's success does not mean they are falling behind.
“You are exactly where you need to be. Someone else’s success does not mean you are behind, and their journey was never meant to be your timeline,” he said.
He also encourages people to practise gratitude by looking at what is meaningful in their own lives rather than focusing on what others appear to have.
When sharing your story invites judgement
For Johannesburg-based entrepreneur, influencer, marketing strategist and speaker Shanèy Vijendranath, 35, social media began during a period of loneliness and transition.
She became a mother at 21, at a time when many of her friends were at a different stage of life.
Looking for connection, she began writing on Tumblr. That eventually developed into her blog, You, Baby and I.
“I wasn’t trying to build a career. I was looking for people who understood me, and I found my tribe,” she said.
Vijendranath wrote candidly about motherhood, covering topics such as baby products, breastfeeding and postnatal depression.
Other women began sharing their experiences, turning her blog into a community where mothers could connect through the realities of parenting.
The platform helped open professional doors, leading to writing opportunities with HuffPost and MomSays, and eventually recognition on Forbes Africa's 30 Under 30 list.
But as her profile grew, so did the pressure.
She began comparing herself with other women and questioning whether she was doing enough.
Speaking openly about personal experiences, including postnatal depression, her C-section and breastfeeding, also attracted strong opinions from strangers.
“I read the comments, replayed them in my head and sometimes second-guessed decisions I felt confident about as a mother. I gave strangers far too much power over how I saw myself,” she said.
The experience made her reflect on how easily the desire to share something meaningful can become entangled with the need for public approval.
“Eventually you stop asking, ‘Am I enjoying this?’ and start asking, ‘How will this look online?’” she said.
As her children grew older, they no longer wanted to appear in videos or campaigns.
Vijendranath listened.
She did not want her children to feel that they had to participate in content creation because of her work, and the experience reinforced the importance of protecting personal boundaries.
It also taught her that not every professional opportunity needs to be accepted, even when the financial reward is attractive.
“Not every opportunity deserves a yes,” she said.
Learning when to log off and draw the line
For all three creators, protecting their mental wellbeing has meant reassessing the role social media plays in their lives.
For Naicker, that has meant posting less frequently and refusing to let online bullying determine how she feels about her appearance.
For Govender, it has meant becoming more conscious of the content he consumes and the influence he allows other people's achievements to have on his own sense of progress.
For Vijendranath, it has meant unfollowing accounts that leave her feeling inadequate, protecting her children's privacy and being selective about what she shares.
She has also learnt to think carefully about personal boundaries before professional opportunities arise.
“Creators should decide what is off-limits before the opportunities and money arrive,” she said. “Boundaries are easier to protect when you have decided what they are before somebody offers you a cheque.”
Her message is particularly relevant in an environment where sharing personal experiences can become part of a person's livelihood.
The pressure to remain visible, relatable and engaging can blur the line between personal life and public content.
But building an online presence does not mean surrendering every private moment to an audience.
Vijendranath believes social media should be treated as a tool rather than a reflection of personal worth.
“It can tell me what’s trending, but it cannot tell me my worth,” she said.
You are more than your online presence
Naicker found encouragement from people who enjoyed her videos and reminded her that she was appreciated for who she was.
Govender built a community and continues to use social media as part of his professional life.
Vijendranath found connection with other mothers when she needed it most, eventually turning that connection into meaningful professional opportunities.
Their experiences illustrate that the impact of social media depends, in part, on how people engage with it, the environments they encounter and the boundaries they establish.
It is also a reminder that behind every profile is a person whose life is more complicated than a collection of photographs, videos and carefully selected moments might suggest.
For Naicker, one of the most important lessons has been recognising that people should not wait until they are struggling to take care of their mental health.
“We shouldn’t wait until we are struggling to take care of our mental health. Don’t let one bad chapter define your whole story. Talk to someone, ask for help when you need it,” she said.
She added that her own online community had helped her feel less alone during difficult moments.
“My social media platform taught me that when I feel alone, thousands of people love me for me.”
In a digital world where likes, views and comments can easily become measures of perceived success, their message is simple: it is possible to value the connections social media brings without allowing it to decide how you feel about yourself.
Sometimes, protecting your peace means stepping back, changing who you follow, saying no to an opportunity or remembering that the life you live offline deserves just as much attention as the one people see online.
Because no number of likes can determine a person's worth, and no carefully curated feed can tell the full story of someone else's life.
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