Am I in a Toxic Relationship with Instagram?
Since the creation of my Instagram account in 2013, I have deactivated and reactivated it on dozens of different occasions. Each time I vow to “never again”. I’m done with it. But then, weeks go by, I’ve broken the habit of looking at my phone before bed, I’m feeling great about myself, I think it’s ok to dive back in.
I usually also pair that with an excuse of “I need it to showcase my personal writing” - which is true, to some extent. But the time I spend looking at skinny girls posing in front of mountains or overweight raccoons befriending house cats far outweighs the time I spend sitting down to write, edit, and post personal musings on the platform. I wish Instagram’s “discover page” was full of tiles that said “put your phone down and go for a walk”.
So I log back in and voila, everything is just as I left it. It’s not long before I’m scrolling while on the toilet, adding unnecessary items like a woven southwestern blanket or delicate fake-gold jewelry to a shopping cart that I have to try my damndest to abandon in the virtual aisle. Eventually, I get a pang of longing to paddle sapphire blue lakes in Banff or wander the streets of Marrakech in a flowy, floral-print boho dress. I see other #vanlifers and yearn to get back on the road, if only for sweet photos of my mobile home in front of a desert sunset.
I become increasingly dissatisfied with my output, my physical form, my possessions, how I’m not impacting the world as much as this woman who started a nonprofit in Colombia to help girls stay in school. I feel guilty that I’m not doing enough with my short life and waning time on this earth. I cover up these feelings by making future plans for greatness, buying a pair of flattering leggings, or randomly donating fifty dollars that I don’t have to a horse rescue in Pasadena.
All of this leads me to ask, am I in a toxic relationship with Instagram? Human-to-human toxic relationships are no joke and can take years to crawl out from under. I have been on the giving and receiving end of toxic couplings. It takes its toll and I am not making light of that situation.
However, I am wondering if applying this lens to a very non-human social media platform will help me (and others?) form a healthier relationship with it. Here’s some hallmarks of toxicity in a relationship:
You give more than you get, which leads to feeling devalued and unappreciated
Your self-esteem takes a hit over time
You feel depressed or angry after spending time with counterpart
You bring out the worst habits and thought patterns in each other
You are not your best self when in the company of the other
A whole bunch of other terrible things
So, if I try to do and feel the opposite of all of these things when I interact with Instagram, can I cultivate a healthier relationship with it? Or, is it totally impossible because the app was designed in a way to capture my attention and to discover my insecurities via Google searches then sell me things related to them?
Is the application itself inherently toxic? Or do I bring an unhealthy attitude each time I click on that multicolored square? Is there a way to just get the good, or, like life, do I have to take the good with the bad and proceed as best I can? I have no idea.
I’ve tried to unfollow content that makes me feel poorly. I’ve tried to set a time limit on my Instagram usage. I’ve tried to only use it to post real, honest things happening in my life. But I continue to fail at all three of these things. So I complain out loud to whomever will listen, denouncing the application, and promptly deactivating it. Weeks later, I’ll return determined in my conviction that I will win this time.
Maybe one day I will. But for now, all I can say is that I’m thankful for this moment that connects me to you. I’m thankful that I can get this off my chest and tell you that, while I mostly hate Instagram, I’ll probably keep using it to post the stuff I write. I just don’t want to be inauthentic in denouncing an application then using it in the same breath - but that’s literally what I’m doing. Oh well, at least now you know.
