Whether someone’s lying in bed doing nothing, or running through the busiest day imaginable with not even a second to take a deep breath:
Instagram is always there.
It lives rent free in the back of people’s minds, follows them everywhere, slips into everything they do… All without anyone even noticing! At this, point scrolling has become muscle memory. Even though people know it messes with their confidence, focus, and mental health really badly, their thumbs keep scrolling on autopilot. Instagram has become more than an app. It’s part of how some move through college, communicate with friends, and convince themselves at 2 a.m. that everyone else is doing better than them.
What makes Instagram especially impossible to escape is that it refuses to stay in its lane. It’s no longer just about likes or validation, it’s fully running the show. It’s seeped into basically every field, including sports, politics, education, science, and even medicine. Instagram is an athlete, a political commentator, a news outlet, and a classroom never enrolled in all at once. It decides how athletes build their brands, how political ideas go viral, and how people consume information in ten-second, scroll-friendly bites. And whether people like it or not, they’ve completely bought into the dependency, arms wide open and thumbs on autopilot, doomscrolling through content that never stops demanding more attention.
Scrolling Through the Pain
All the trends, photo dumps, reels, “get your life together” posts, breaking news, and celebrity updates don’t just fill screens. They slowly reset standards. Instagram doesn’t just distract. It changes what people think they should look like, be doing, and have figured out by now. Over time, the discomfort starts to feel normal. People keep scrolling through content that makes them feel late to their own lives, like everyone else got a head start that was somehow missed. Watching people glow up, soft-launch success, or package their lives into perfect highlight reels can make goals feel farther away. Not because they’re impossible, but because they suddenly feel not good enough. Instead of motivating, Instagram often leaves people stuck in comparison mode. And somehow, some still open the app again tomorrow.
Here’s the thing. People know Instagram is messing with them, yet their phones stay glued to their hands. So why are they so obsessed? It’s not just in people’s heads. Research backs this up. Heavy social media use among college students is linked to higher levels of depression, anxiety, and emotional distress. Constant comparison, pressure to look productive, and nonstop fear of missing out add up over time. Study after study finds the same pattern: the more time college students spend scrolling, the worse their mental health tends to be, even when they know the app is part of the problem .
The Science of the Algorithm Spiral
So why do people open Instagram knowing it’s probably about to ruin their mood? Why do people voluntarily scroll through other people’s perfect lives like it’s a form of emotional self-sabotage? Why does one productivity reel make people feel lazy for sitting down for five minutes? Why do people compare their very real, very messy lives to someone else’s filtered, edited, best-day-ever post? And if Instagram stresses people out this much, why is it still the first app they open when they wake up, and the last one they check before they fall asleep?
It’s because Instagram knows a little too well. It knows what keeps people scrolling, what makes them compare, and what makes them stay even when we should probably log off. Psychologists say this obsession isn’t accidental, it’s designed. Instagram runs on something called a variable reward system, where likes, views, and attention show up randomly. Sometimes you get a hit, sometimes you don’t, and that unpredictability keeps us checking, scrolling, and hoping for validation even when the app makes us anxious. This cycle taps into the brain’s reward system by releasing dopamine not when we actually feel good, but when we think we might feel good. Add social comparison into the mix, watching other people glow up or succeed, and suddenly logging off feels harder than staying. Instagram turns anxiety, insecurity, and comparison into fuel, which explains why it can feel exhausting and addictive at the same time.
Hustle Culture, Sponsored by Instagram
On college campuses, Instagram is basically the unofficial bulletin board for life. Missing even a day on the app can mean not knowing who went out, who landed an internship, who’s in their rebrand era, or what event everyone keeps referencing. It’s where plans happen, memories get posted, and social lives are low-key ranked. Everyday moments turn into performances, where even grabbing coffee feels like it could be content. At that point, staying on Instagram isn’t just about scrolling. It’s about staying in the loop. And when being “in the loop” feels this essential, logging off doesn’t feel like self-care. It feels like opting out of college life altogether.
Instagram also fuels campus hustle culture in a very loud way. Productivity reels, morning routines, gym check-ins, and endless “day in my life” posts turn being busy into a personality trait. Rest starts to feel suspicious. Doing nothing feels illegal. Even downtime comes with guilt, like it should be optimized, documented, or turned into something impressive. Instagram doesn’t just showcase how other people are living. It quietly sets the rules for how people think they should be living. And when everyone else looks productive, disciplined, and constantly leveling up, it’s way too easy to feel behind, even when things are just fine.
Using Instagram Without Letting It Use Us
Fixing a relationship with Instagram doesn’t mean quitting cold turkey or pretending the app isn’t a huge part of college life. For most college students, that’s just not realistic. In my opinion, a better place to start is by being intentional about how and why its being used:
- A feed should hype up, not tear down: A feed shouldn’t feel like a running list of everything someone’s not doing. If an account makes someone compare, feel guilty, or spiral, I suggest muting it or unfollowing it, even if it’s labeled “motivational.” Following people who feel real, funny, or grounding instead can make a difference. Instagram’s algorithm learns from what people like and engage with, so the more someone interacts with content that doesn’t stress them out, the calmer and more enjoyable scrolling starts to feel.
- Stopping performance for the algorithm: Not every moment needs to be documented. Some things are better left not posted, edited, or compared. When everything turns into content, it’s easy to forget that life doesn’t need to look impressive. Letting some moments stay offline helps break the habit of performing for an invisible audience, and makes space to just exist and enjoy life.
- Productivity isn’t just being busy: Instagram productivity culture makes it seem like everyone is waking up at 6 a.m., hitting the gym, landing internships, and romanticizing burnout. Real productivity includes rest, boredom, and days that don’t go perfectly. Muting hustle content and reminders that growth doesn’t always look aesthetic can help quiet the pressure to constantly optimize oneself.
- Logging off temporarily: People don’t need to delete Instagram to feel more in control. Small rules actually work better. No scrolling during class, meals, or right before bed. Putting the phone down when scrolling starts coming from stress instead of curiosity helps create distance. These small pauses loosen Instagram’s grip without making it feel like everything is being missed.
- It’s no one’s fault: Instagram is designed to keep people hooked, so struggling with it isn’t a personal failure. Noticing the problem doesn’t mean someone’s weak. Giving oneself some grace actually makes it easier to set boundaries without feeling guilty. The goal isn’t to “win” against Instagram, it’s to stop letting an app decide how worth, success, or place in college life are measured.
Not Breaking Up, Just Setting Boundaries
At the end of the day, Instagram isn’t going anywhere, and neither is the awareness of how much it shapes people. The issue isn’t using the app. It’s how easily it starts influencing confidence, productivity, and a sense of belonging. Instagram sits in that gray area between connection and comparison, where it’s hard to tell when we’re scrolling for fun, and when someone’s scrolling out of habit or insecurity. Noticing that difference, even briefly, is where change actually begins.
College is already overwhelming without turning every moment into something that needs to be posted or validated. Fixing a relationship with Instagram doesn’t require deleting the app or making drastic changes. It starts small. Putting the phone down during meals. Muting accounts that make someone feel worse instead of better. Choosing presence over performance when possible. Instagram may be part of college life, but it shouldn’t get to define it.