It’s a brand-new year, which means two things:

1. I’m still writing “2025” on every form, and
2. I’m staring at my bank statements like a detective in a true-crime documentary, trying to figure out who subscribed me to all these services.

Spoiler alert: it was me. Past Me. Over-caffeinated, over-optimistic, “New Year, New Organizational System” Me. That Me apparently believed I needed 72 streaming platforms, 14 productivity apps, and a newsletter about Scandinavian mushroom foraging.

I do not forage mushrooms.
I barely forage in my own fridge.

So here I am, first month of the year, bravely beginning my Subscription Purge.  The ritual cleansing no one warns you about, but everyone eventually faces.

First up: LinkedIn Premium. Yes, it’s a business expense. Yes, I should probably use it more. Do I?
Absolutely not. I’m not even sure what the premium features are anymore. Does it send me a gold badge? A secret handshake? A carrier pigeon with career advice? Because if so, the bird got lost.

Then there are the streaming platforms. All of them. Every last one. We live in a world where we pay for five different apps only to end up watching the same comfort show on repeat. And the irony? I actually pay for one service that streams commercials like it’s their job. Why am I paying to watch ads? That feels like a disorder in the DSM-6 waiting to be written.

And let’s talk email lists. Somehow I’ve ended up subscribed to companies I don’t remember meeting. Brands I did not knowingly invite into my inbox.
Daily emails with subject lines like “Act Now!” and “Your Exclusive Offer Ends Today!” Ends today?
It ended for me the moment I realized I didn’t know who you were.

Honestly, most of the content is useless. I signed up for a discount one time in 2017 and now they email me every day like we’re in an overly clingy relationship.
Please. Let me breathe.

The truth is, part of me wonders if I’ll miss the clutter. Will I feel a little lonely without the constant background noise of digital chaos?
Will I wake up and think, “Gosh, I really miss that newsletter about artisanal pickles”? Possibly.
But that just means I need better hobbies. Maybe knitting. Maybe kickboxing. Maybe alphabetizing my spices. Something that doesn’t involve managing 400 digital subscriptions.

So here I go, canceling, deleting, unsubscribing. Shedding digital weight like I’m preparing for a minimalist Olympics. I’m clicking “Unsubscribe” with the passion of a thousand newly motivated January souls.