Lately, I’ve been seeing a growing number of patients who come in already knowing, or, thinking they know what’s wrong with them. They’ve watched a few clips on TikTok or Instagram, read through the comments, and connected the dots themselves.

And I can’t really blame them. These platforms have made health information more accessible than ever. A creator talks about anxiety symptoms, another explains a therapy technique, and suddenly mental health feels less mysterious, maybe even comforting to explore.

But here’s the catch: what’s accessible isn’t always accurate. Social media has a way of removing context. What might be helpful advice for one person can become harmful when applied broadly. I’ve seen people stop medication because a stranger online said “you don’t need it.” Others start taking supplements that interfere with existing prescriptions. Some even develop anxiety about their anxiety, after endless scrolling convinces them they’re far worse off than they are.

The problem isn’t that people are curious, it’s that algorithms reward confidence, not accuracy. The loudest voices often drown out the most careful ones. As clinicians, we need to meet people where they are. That means understanding why social media feels more trustworthy than a ten-minute appointment. It means building relationships that feel human, not transactional.

But as individuals, we also need to slow down and ask: Who’s behind this advice? Do they understand me; my history, my medications, my body, my mind? Because medicine isn’t one-size-fits-all. And no matter how persuasive the video, an algorithm doesn’t know your story. Before you take the next health trend as truth, pause and talk to someone who can see the full picture.

Real care begins in conversation, not in a feed.