Escaping the Dopamine Hit

When I started my website in early 2024, I deliberately chose not to enable analytics. The only reason I didn’t was to not falling into the trap of chasing likes, views, and comments. Maybe my blogs could have been a big hit, maybe not. But in a world already overflowing with content, chances were slim. More importantly, I wanted to write about what mattered to me and not what was "trending".

There were days when I sat staring at the screen, wondering

What should I write next?

A colleague once teased me, “Oh, you’re just doing this so you can blog about it later.” At the time, it stung. But honestly, even if I were reading that book or learning that skill so I could share it with others, what’s the harm?

If anything, it gave me motivation to keep going.

But eventually the process of writing became easier because I built a habit around it. Now writing comes naturally to me. I don’t have to go searching for topics, they come to me.

I write about what I’m learning, experiencing, or simply feeling in the moment. I find inspiration in emerging tech, from my work, from conversations, or just from everyday life.

Growing up, reading novels or non-academic books wasn’t exactly encouraged at home. The focus was always on textbooks, because anything outside of that seemed like a distraction. It’s a common mindset, and I don’t hold it against anyone. But the cycle ends with me because now that I read so much, I’ve seen how books expand my world, spark new ideas, and connect me to people in meaningful ways. They’ve shaped me into a better, more empathetic human being.

Even now, I get asked by some people,

Why do you write?

What benefit does it bring?

Is anyone even reading it?

Honestly, my younger self would have found these questions a bit discouraging, but today I see them differently. I know my writing doesn’t bring me any direct monetary benefit, but why does everything in life need to?

For me, writing is its own reward.

Eventually, I did set up Google Analytics on my website. But by that point, I was strong enough in my habit that the numbers didn’t stop me from writing, but

I’d be lying if I said I never checked the stats.

Of course I did!

The no. of users, views, demographics and whatnot. They can feel overwhelming in their own way. Some of my longest and most thoughtful blogs took me days to complete, and when I checked the analytics, the average read time was about one minute. People barely scrolled through. Not the most encouraging thing to know I suppose.

I recently wrote a blog about Appreciate Loudly. I posted it late at night, and while hitting publish, I caught myself thinking.

Will this timing affect my stats? Should I wait until morning?

I let the thought pass and posted anyway.

The next morning, when I checked, it only had about 100 impressions on LinkedIn. It immediately got to me. Over tea, I told my partner, “I really wanted this one to reach more people.” He reminded me that people probably hadn’t even opened LinkedIn yet. He was right of course, but I still found myself scrolling through my own profile, checking impressions on older posts, and trying to figure out some pattern about what gets picked up and what doesn’t.

I even googled what impressions actually mean.

With over 4000 followers, if a post got 200 impressions, that meant it only reached 5 percent of my audience.

Five percent!! Wow that certainly added to my Monday blues.

It is so easy to feel lost in this.

To feel like you need to obey the unwritten rules of social media.

Post at a fixed time.

Share at regular intervals.

Update your profile often just to stay visible.

At an event recently, someone asked me,

“What’s your revenue strategy for your blog?”

I smiled and said I don’t have one. Not because I couldn’t build one, but because I don’t want my writing to turn into another metric to chase. I don’t want it to be about money or clicks or the dopamine hit. I want to write because I love it.

Because it makes me reflect, learn, and connect.

And yet, there’s something undeniably special about that one like or that single heartfelt comment. I still remember the first time someone wrote to me saying they had found my blog through ChatGPT and loved it. That one message lit me up for the entire day. I wasn’t seeking validation, but receiving it unexpectedly felt so good.

And that’s absolutely fine. We are human after all. The tricky part is not letting yourself slip into chasing those moments.

Because if you’re not careful, you end up writing for the dopamine hit instead of for yourself.

What has helped me is finding small ways to stay grounded when the pull of likes and views gets strong.

• I remind myself why I started in the first place. Not to win numbers, but to create my own little corner of the internet where I can share what I love.
• I imagine writing for just one person, because even if a single reader finds value, that’s already a win. I’ve learned to celebrate the process rather than the outcome. Hitting publish is a victory on its own.
• I also pay attention to the small, genuine connections. That one thoughtful comment or message means so much more than a thousand silent impressions.
• And above all, I keep perspective. Algorithms will change, platforms will change, but the joy of creating something that’s truly yours never goes away.

If you’ve read this far, chances are you’re a content creator yourself and maybe this felt familiar.

So here’s a little reminder.

At the end of the day, writing is your space. It’s your way of reflecting, connecting, and growing. And if even one person finds meaning in your words, that’s worth more than any dopamine hit.