Once a week, like clockwork, I tell myself I need to delete Instagram for the upcoming week. It’s usually when I’m lost in the depths of my reels feed, and I’ve hit the 15 more minutes button for the 8th time. It’s like I’m stuck deep under water and I need to come up for air, but the allure of the dark depths Instagram reels provides is pulling me down.
I’ve been on Instagram since its inception. It was still blue and gray back then. When I was 12, Instagram was simple. It was just friends sharing their lives. Pictures of meals, outfits, sunsets, dogs, cats, skylines, and, of course, faces. Usually ridiculously posed, excessively filtered, simply captioned, and posted without shame. There wasn’t any fear. If you stalk people back far enough, you can still see the remnants of this era.
In the modern age, Instagram has become… a lot. With the invention of The Algorithm™ , the internet has never been more addicting. Everything is exactly what I want to see every time I open an app. It’s amazing! It’s also terrible and has ruined so many of our lives.
It’s hard to have full conversations with others because there is always something so interesting in their phone drawing their attention. It breaks my heart.
It’s hard that when I open my Instagram, I am bombared with brands, influencers, and reels, reels, reels. Due to the reels, Instagram has become less and less real.
So, I need to delete Instagram.
I like to do things. I am a doer. I am always wanting to do a task or a hobby or a chore or go for a walk. I need enrichment. I do not like being told what not to do. So I struggle with telling myself to spend less time online and do the things I want to do, yet when I try to replace the task of scrolling, I just get sucked into the scroll and can’t get out.
I’ve been able to cut back on my other social vices. Facebook was easy considering how frustrating it is. Twitter was harder, but it would keep depressing me so it was a good thing to cut loose. Instagram? I can’t seem to get rid of it.
I think it’s what Instagram represents for me.
I associate Instagram with my friends. Growing up, we’d swap Instagrams in addition to phone numbers. Every person I’ve ever known is on my Instagram. It’s how we keep in touch.
I love to see when my friend has a delicious meal and has to share on her story. I love to know what people are listening to and watching. I love to know who’s engaged, who’s pregnant, who got a new puppy, who is getting a masters, who’s birthday it is, who moved, and, most importantly, who is at Disneyland without me. I also love the little moments. The stories, the shared memes, the cat pics, the books being read, the silly boomerangs, the concert clips, the bears, the bears, the bears. It’s all such a special look into so many of my friend’s psyche.
This morning, I started a new audiobook about the timeline of dinosaurs, it started by talking about the origins of life and leading to the start of the Triassic period. It is amazing that in the billions of years of Earth, I live in a time where I am able to see what all of my friends are interested in, what they are up to, and their major milestones no matter where I’m at.
I have over 1500 friends to keep up with and it means so much to me. If I leave Instagram, I lose them.
But everytime I open Instagram, the Algorithm™ gets the best of me. It shows me, pretty exclusively, what I should buy, what I should like, what I need to watch, and other targeted things.
I just opened my Instagram feed and timed how long I needed to scroll before I would see a friend of mine. It took 52 seconds. Which in the grand scheme of life isn’t that long, but I scrolled past 4 ads, 5 shops, 3 reels, 6 “suggested for me posts”, and 2 memes before I saw someone I knew and regularly interacted with. (Hi Zozo!)
I started to tear up a little. No wonder I can’t get rid of it! It’s trying so hard to keep me. My friends are buried under so much crap. Crap that I like, but crap nonetheless.
I don’t want to buy that. I don’t want to watch that. I don’t want to like that. I don’t know you. I don’t care about the new Marvel show. I don’t care about that celebrity’s hyper algorithm tested post. I don’t care. I want to see my friends.
I want to see my friends.
I need to see my friends.
My attention has been monetized. My time has been monetized. Most harmless reels are promoting something. And the monetization is ruining my friendships. I barely see what friends of mine are posting or doing anymore because the noise has gotten so loud.
The clean with, get ready with, pack with. The you need, you have to buy, you can’t live with out. The I can’t stop laughing, I’m so angry, I’m crying. The pain, the suffering, the joy.
It’s all so loud, and I can’t let it go. They’re holding my friends hostage beneath their noise.
I want to shut out the noise, but it’s ringing in my ears, begging me to check on my friends. But first, I must watch this reel, like this post, watch this trailer.
I need to delete Instagram.
I need to delete Instagram.
I need to delete Instagram.
I need to delete Instagram.
Maybe I'll cut back.
Just for messages.
Just for memes.
Just for photo dumps.
Just for my memories.
Just for my friends.
I can’t lose my friends.
But they all live on Instagram.
And I want to delete Instagram.
seeking freedom,
katie
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