I will be the first to admit that I am easily influenced. The first time I watched When Harry Met Sally, I scoured the internet for the same, white-knit sweater Harry wore. I try recipes that pop up on my FYP, no matter how improbable they might seem. Like many others, I fell victim to the Birkenstocks clog trend from the summer.
Beyond this, I often slip into destructive patterns. Mostly the byproduct of social media platforms that perpetuate the ‘clean-girl’ aesthetic. Toned, disciplined, and intelligent. I noticed it most over a year ago as I scrolled down my Instagram home page, littered with bikini pictures and beautiful brunch photos from girls in high school I barely knew.
The truth was, I was in one of the deepest depressions of my life, and being constantly peppered with other people’s perfect moments wasn’t helping with mine. It grew my already unattainable self-standards. While I enjoyed the constant stimulation that came with scrolling through Instagram, I noticed changes in my behavior. Little slips back into bad habits I’d gotten past. Lemon water supplementing full meals, for days. Withdrawing from the friends I spoke to regularly. Not sleeping, but not quite getting out of bed, either.
I decided to do something about it. One day, at the random suggestion of a coworker, I purged my Instagram account. You might be wondering what that means. I spent a few hours picking through my followers, removing the ones I couldn’t note an important connection with. 850-odd followers slowly slipped down to 700, then to 400, and beyond, until I landed at the number I still have today: 94 whopping followers.
While this might seem inconsequential to some, numbers often rule our generation, albeit conscious or subconscious. I was starting to value those numbers more than any definable characteristics about myself, craving that public, permanent validation everyone around me also sought out.
At first, I was sure I’d made a mistake. I have always been ruled by the opinions of other people. I look in my mirror fifteen times before leaving my apartment and stress over where my pant creases fold. I don’t go to sleep until my hair is styled just right for mornings. I pick at my skin until it’s red and swollen if it means it will clear up in a few days’ time. What would people think when they saw that number? So low, compared to what it had once been.
But then it struck me: the worst they could think of me was that I was unpopular. The concept seems so trivial when you take a step back and see it for what it really is. All of the sudden, I didn’t know why I had devoted so much care into the opinions of girls who rarely spoke to me, who I’d known from passing in the halls years ago. It didn’t matter. So I repeated the process with my following list until I was down to 100, only having kept the people I cared most about.
The process was a little jarring. Only a few of my friends noticed the substantial drop, and when they asked for my reasoning, I didn’t have much to say besides describing what social media had made me think about myself. I wasn’t posting things I cared about or that reflected my personality; I was posting pictures where my eyes looked the biggest, my teeth whiter, and my body obscured. But since that day almost a year ago now, I have felt liberated in my social media usage. I am not constantly worrying about who will see and judge me because the only people I allow in are the ones already closest to me. I can’t compare myself to unattainable standards because the content catered to me is entirely different than it once was.
Also, with my following list shortened so substantially, there comes a time every day when I run out of content. I’ve caught up on all posts within the last five days and viewed every story. I can have a break from the consumption of other people’s lives in order to live mine happily and fully, without worrying about the consideration of others.
So if you’ve noticed yourself feeling the way I felt, consider the purge. If it sounds too daunting, don’t do it all at once. Start slow. Unfollow the accounts you recognize as creating bad behaviors within yourself. Cater your posts toward your interests instead of aesthetics.
This is my challenge for you, for the good of yourself: Marie Kondo your Instagram.