I’ve had that account since around 2011. Needless to say, it has become a diary of sorts chronicling the joys in my life for the past 7 years. So you may be wondering why I did what I did.
Yesterday, I said, “fuck this” and deleted my account.
Not deactivated the account or even just deleted the app – I deleted my entire account, including posts, followers, the entire shebang. I thought I would feel instant regret, but writing this, I feel utterly relieved.
I’m not alone – there’s a recent survey that shows Instagram as being the worst social media platform for self-esteem.
Instead of being a place where I could enjoy images from my connections and my favorite influencers, Instagram has become a place that fosters FOMO (fear of missing out) in me. On IG, you see people glammed up with 3D brows, wearing fashionable OOTDs you can only dream of pulling off, soaking up the sunshine on a remote beach… While you’re sitting alone in your room scrolling through that feed, eating chocolate and wondering why your life isn’t as fun as theirs.
“No one’s life is perfect, even if their Instagram is.”
I know that. Still, I can’t deny that the FOMO is real, and that I am negatively affected by these images that remind me of a life I’m not living. It’s not you, Instagram – it’s me. I can’t handle the perfection being projected through the screen of my iPhone so I just quit.
I’m not saying IG is all bad, but it just isn’t healthy for me at this particular point in time. I created a new Instagram account without following anyone, so in any case, it’s a great reason for me to finally have a themed Instagram feed. Yay!