I broke up with Instagram. Now what?

I broke up with Instagram–my last remaining social media platform–more than a month ago. 

The change was spurred by the final, absolutely clear revelation the platform wasn’t what I wanted and it never would be, and participating in it was harmful to my overall well-being. 

Here’s why.

As a small child I had two best friends. They weren’t always the same, but the number was always two. When one drifted away, another filled the spot. Turnover was not high; one girl has occupied one of my Best Friend niches for 25 years (Hey, Addie). Starting in late middle school and going into high school, I radically expanded my social horizons into a small group of friends–about six, give or a take a boyfriend.

I never have been and never will be the kind of person who seeks an abundance of connections.

I’ve watched dear ones who, seeming by magic, cultivate instant relationships with complete strangers in seconds–electric, tenuous, and fleeting, but endlessly re-inventable. A guy I know and love had no less than 5,000 Facebook friends at any given time, back when I was still on it. My 275 felt hard-won, and honestly a bit overwhelming. It amazes me to see people like him in action–in large part because theirs is a magic I do not possess and can’t quite wrap my head around. 

Whatever the opposite of a “social butterfly” is, that’s me. Let’s call it a “social tree root.” 
It branches occasionally as needed but generally stays in the same place, delving deeper and deeper.

As far as I can tell, there is no social media designed for depth. The goal has always been breadth and brevity, evolving into ever-quickening demands on ever-shortening attention spans. It is the time of butterflies, and even they are struggling.

On Instagram, being a tree root made me feel…faulty. I stayed for years because convention dictated I must for the sake of my businesses, and also because I kept secretly hoping that somehow it would work out for me, specifically. I hoped I would be the exception who manages to navigate the algorithm with integrity and foster real connection. I left because I finally faced facts: I’m not the exception. The system is designed specifically against tree root people like me, and pretending otherwise was messing with my heart in dangerous ways. 

The refusal to acknowledge Instagram’s shortcomings allowed the harshest critics inside my head to declare I was the problem. I started believing the core of my character was a fundamental defect that really should be fixed in order to suit the whims of mathematical marketing bots. 

Which is bullshit.

The choice to leave was in many ways a celebration of myself as I am: a person who isn’t interested in scrolling, who isn’t interested in what 100,000 faceless strangers think, and has things to say that take longer than 30 seconds. A person who is really, truly, 100% interested in what one person at a time has to say–what’s in their heart, what their dreams are, and how they’re coping with the seismic shifts that keep shaking the world we share. 

I don’t want to interact with people en masse. I want to interact with You. One person. Maybe two tops. Because I’m a tree root, damn it, and the nourishment I tap after years of deep cultivation are riches butterflies cannot comprehend.

It hasn’t all been grand, post-IG breakup. There are artists whose work I miss, I haven’t found as convenient a means to keep up with what’s going on in the city, and the shift into no social media at all left me feeling more isolated than ever. (Given two years of raising preschoolers during pandemic and attending college exclusively online, that is saying something.)
Plus, as a small business owner in a digital marketplace, if I’m not on social media, I may as well not exist.

…And yet I do.

So what’s next? People. I’ve decided to grow my business through deep human connection.

It will be hard.

It will be slow.

But it will be worth it.

Because I would rather have one client I LOVE who loves me back than 300 one-off leads from clickbait.
I would rather have one person connect with my poetry, fully feel it in their body, than have 10,000 followers who never actually read anything I write.

When I build relationships I want them to last, and I lovingly put in a great deal of effort to sustain them. (I’m still friends with coworkers from a job I left nearly ten years ago. Tree roots run deep, y’all.)

Leaving Instagram behind has been a gorgeous, awkward step in honoring my true nature. New gorgeous, awkward steps are forthcoming because of this unconventional path.

If you want to be a part of what comes next, subscribe to the email list below. Email is mostly how I talk to people now, so seriously, that’s where it’s at!

Please know that I would be absolutely thrilled—zing-mega-wiggle happy—if you sign up. The wiggles are literal, sometimes bounces and squeeky “eeeee!” sounds are also involved. Because being a tree root, anytime someone wants to branch with me is a big. fucking. deal.

Onward we grow!

Love and hugs,