Unfollowing Instagram
Dry January from scrolling was *thrilling*
This is actually my second attempt at writing this post. The first felt intense, heavy, and slightly pedantic, not conveying the levity I was (and am!) feeling. Turns out, she’s passionate. As mentioned in my previous post, for January instead of giving up my casual evening martini I wanted to give up something I felt less in control of — Instagram. For those curious about what that looks like, read on!
My Background —
Everyone’s relationship to social media is different. Some are capable of casual use and remaining distanced (impressive), some work in the field and are experts on algorithms, some post to promote themselves as artists or a business, and then some of us just scroll.
I am in the final category. For me, I clocked that posting stopped feeling good a while ago. Stories became about how many people interacted with them, posts had to be edited just so, and my feed had to feel aesthetically appealing yet real. What was appropriate to be posted? If I post my (perfect) nephew, my acting brand may shift to young mom. If I post a view of LA I may look basic. And the catch-22 of posting a photo of myself? That was enough to make me want to throw my phone in the ocean. So I kind of disconnected from the output and only consumed it. My Screen Time app told me I spent hours consuming, mindlessly scrolling through other people’s lives, voyeuristically learning who I should be, what I should want, and what I am without.
That information, when provided in such unrelenting quantities, inevitably sunk into my subconscious, fueling my materialism, spending, interests, self-worth, and goals. The old saying is true, you are what you eat.
Brutal honesty with yourself is weirdly liberating. I have a skeptical outlook* on social media and have adopted it as the necessary evil that many people have. I am not a wholesome content creator. I am an actor who was told I would only succeed with an impressive social media presence, so I wanted every post to be expressive and enviable. The pressure became unenjoyable, but I was too afraid to live without it. It was that fear that spurred my curiosity to try.
(*I apologize in advance to anyone who works in and/or is passionate about the field. Please keep doing the admirable work making it a happier, more creative space!)
The Rules —
Move the app to reduce the muscle memory of opening it subconsciously but keep it on my phone. I wanted to see the severity of my dependence. If I could be around it and choose not to engage daily that would be ideal. However, if I find that I am unreliable, then I will delete the app from my phone.
I had previously made some accommodations for my mental health. Months prior, I unfollowed any account that made me feel less-than or negative with a one-strike-you’re-out policy (ruthless but freeing). I tried to avoid it first thing in the morning and before bed, or in the presence of family and friends. But I still didn’t feel fully in control. I found I was scrolling while talking on the phone with loved ones! Terrible!
I was poorly keeping a bad habit at bay (like I said, hours were still tracked!) so cold turkey felt like the only way. My brain immediately jumped into a panic state for a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t. I will feel disconnected, I will be out of touch with friends and family, I won’t know the new cool spots, and/or someone will think I am weird/rude. I had deleted my Facebook years ago, so even though this was temporary and not even new territory, I still felt so anxious (a symptom of addiction?) You don’t realize your dependency on something until you can’t imagine life without it. If you had asked me one week prior, I would have said my relationship with Instagram was casual.
So here we go. January 1st - 31st. I sent a polite text to friends/family that I regularly messaged on the app and said I was doing Dry January - if there was a meme I needed to see, screenshot it and text it to me.
The Transition —
I would describe the first week as clunky and strange, but not hard. A new app naturally moved to the spot where Instagram was, and I cannot tell you how many times I mindlessly opened my calculator (humbling). It was the most informative about how ingrained it was in my subconscious habit and muscle memory. How it was my default resource to avoid. Avoid boredom, hard feelings, productivity, and connection — good and bad things. I was forced to be present again, for all of them.
I felt so uncomfortable waiting in line alone, standing around as the dog took a lengthy sniff, waking up in the morning too tired to read but too awake to sleep. It was an adjustment. If I was with someone scrolling, I had to find something else to pass the time. The stagnant moments that I would usually diffuse on my phone, I found myself with a feeling I had not felt in a long time. Boredom.
I cannot count how many times creativity spurred from boredom as a kid. Looking for something to do, I would pick up a craft, read a book, mess with an instrument, practice a song, draw, paint, etc. We are so accustomed to over-stimulation nowadays, that we forget how wildly productive boredom can be. It creates room for organic thought. Where does our mind wander? What do we think about when we are not told what to think? What do we want when we are not pitched what we should want?
After that, I began to feel a new rhythm. As the weeks went on, it got much easier and felt more natural. I forgot I was in a “Dry January” most days. It would only come up if someone referenced something I couldn’t access or was in the zeitgeist already. I found new ways to spend the downtime — reading more (finishing books I had abandoned, the NYT, Substacks, Googled topics I was curious about), jotting down thoughts/notes, building my business, taking an acting class, chilling at home, and just chatting with the neighbors. It was true leisure, but it felt strangely productive.
So I embraced boredom and allowed information to come to me slower — I wasn’t embarrassed when there was a piece of news that I hadn’t caught yet. It sparked more conversations and allowed me to ask questions!
Naturally, we fill the void. And we find new (probably old) ways to connect.
Down Time —
The amount of free time that appeared was truly shocking. I found I had room to think and time to spend. As someone who considers herself an over-productive, busy, non-stopper, it was bizarre.
How I filled the time was equally bizarre (fitting I suppose). I found when I had a moment, I started to re-evaluate everything in my orbit, from big things to small things. Is this organized correctly? Can I reduce my plastic consumption? I know what that client needs! Is my skincare regimen working for me? Is a scarcity complex affecting my financial freedom? What vitamins am I missing? I should watch an Oscar contender. Let’s clean out the closet. My brain started going a mile a minute again, and I had time to pursue these impulses/curiosities. But also time to relax and recover in ways that felt nourishing instead of numbing. My mental clarity inspired additional clearing, and I wanted to de-clutter my apartment, my habits, and my routine. It was wild. I changed a lot in my day to day. My own opinions and critical thinking were allowed to take the lead again.
I mentioned in the last post that it felt like my brain had too many tabs open. Well, if I had 100 tabs open at the beginning of January, none of them loading, avoiding Instagram for just one month closed out over 40. Social media is (clearly) not the only cause of my hyperactive mind, but I will say it is a large culprit. The amount of information it provides so quickly is enough to overload anybody. Fast Company broke it down perfectly: In 2011, Americans took in five times as much information every day as they did in 1986 —the equivalent of 174 newspapers. DAILY.
The internet did a doozy on our brains, and social media upped the ante.
The Takeaway —
So what happened? As I write this in MARCH, I can honestly tell you nothing bad. Not a single negative thing happened to me without Instagram.
My own authentic opinions have been restored as the decision-makers of my life.
My creative capacity/income increased.
My skincare routine dropped to two ingredients and an SPF (sorry, Sephora).
I’ve finished four books. (After reading <5 in all of 2023 — a big red flag for me!)
I feel I have more capacity for friends and loved ones.
I got a new client, one that is vivacious and inspiring!
My home-improvement impulses are… stabilizing.
Gratitude for my life is expanding (I naturally clock moments daily!)
My impulsive spending decreased.
I invest time, energy, and resources into my health.
I track things that capture my attention and keep lists to see if they hold. (Pinterest is great for this.)
My optimism is flourishing - less doom and gloom thinking.
There is a night-and-day difference in my productivity. And my re-evaluations have time to settle in.
This list isn’t to put myself on a pedestal. It’s to show you everything that was stunted or influenced by outside sources being too loud. Social media may seem casual, but it has a powerful effect on our operations.
What would your list look like?
Now I start my mornings protecting my attention span by reading health or creativity books with my coffee, then the news after (usually on my phone during the dog walk breaks). My friends reach out with things they want me not to miss or find entertaining, and I am so grateful to be thought of! I was so impressed with the results, I extended my Dry January.
Turns out, I love being out of touch.
We’re Back (Sort of) —
When February 1st came along, I had no craving to open up Instagram. No need to see what I missed. I decided to ease back into it (as it’s built to have us lose control), by only allowing myself to use it on the weekends — a fun read, like the Sunday Styles section of the paper.
When February 3rd (the weekend) rolled around, I finally opened the app and it felt…aggressively over-stimulating. I checked the messages I had missed, laughed at a couple of funny things I had been sent, watched a few Stories that were first up, and I was satiated. It felt like eating a too-rich food, after a couple of good bites my stomach started to turn.
So long story short, for me, Instagram has been reclassified as exclusively entertainment. I removed the rose-colored glasses and saw social media as a universe where nothing is real (a Meta-verse?) It had no place in my daily life anymore. I only craved real connections, real information, real inspiration, real affirmations. It is not where I get information, connect to loved ones, or even learn about what I like. It is a junk food catalog that on the weekends I get to consume in moderation — scrolling through beautiful apartments, being entertained by influencers, and seeing a peek at a celebrity’s new project. Then I close the catalog, and Monday through Friday I live in my real life.
TLDR —
I regained the clarity of intention. It is not laziness or a lack of strong will that created this dependency. Social media was explicitly designed to be addicting, the more control these companies have over our subconscious (and data) the more integral to society they become. You know this, I know this. It’s all about power and the odds are unfortunately stacked against us. These companies need us to believe we cannot live a proper, modern life without these apps. (Spoiler — we can.)
When I wasn’t posting, I was just being endlessly influenced. Eery how applicable that word truly is. Without my daily dose of “inspiration,” I was left to my own devices. I had to dig for what I truly wanted. I find the large majority of posts on Instagram are an opportunity to flex (travel, money, situation), a plea for validation (likes/comments of approval), and marketing (self-promotion, sponsored posts) — creating an endless deluge of things we should want/be. And that is fine until it starts affecting our worldview. When we allow our thought processes to be built on an unreliable foundation of other people’s reach for self-worth through external validation, it is bound to impact our mental health.
We need to maintain the power of choice. To choose whether to engage, or not, or how much. As we stay in control of our subconscious, we may bring back the joy of casual use of social media but not forfeit the mental downtime that sparks creativity. I would recommend anyone give a “dry” month a try — but especially if you feel uninspired/burned out, creatively stuck, personally/professionally inadequate, or like there’s never enough time in the day. It is a very informative reset. If you’re curious, allow yourself to be free of any social media that seems to have too tight of a grip on you. It may be worth discovering what fills the time, and how you want to consume it when you return.
Talk soon, Mads