The Love is Fading, But I Can’t Let Go

5 minute read + 6 minute listen

There’s been a lot of chatter around Instagram lately, that favourite distraction of mine. Everyone reckons it’s kind of lost its mojo. What started out as a place to share pretty pictures has inevitably become complicated by sponsored content, the dreaded ‘algorithm’ (IFYKYK) and a general push towards a TikTok style of mini film, which Instagram calls ‘reels’. You could say they’re trying to push the little (wo)man out, but I continue to hang on in there. Yes, I’m probably ever so slightly addicted to the delicious app that dishes me up images of pretty urban apartments, aspirational holiday destinations and step-by-step how-to’s for painting stuff that, let’s face it, I have zero interest in actually painting… but it’s just so lovely!

I came a little late to Instagram myself, which was not a little ironic for a person working in marketing. Except that having a full-time office job meant I didn’t have time for a lot of faff about on social media in my 9 to 5 / 7. When the world first started talking about Instagram, I was still feeling cheated by Bebo, into which I had poured a fair share of my personal life details and time accumulating ‘friends’. I had been tolerating Facebook, but have always found it very dull. In fact, I would delete my account if I could make it to the end of the smoke-and-mirrors-forty-seven-step process to do so. Pinterest has always felt overwhelming and as if I’m supposed to be joyously planning for something that will never actually be realised. Why taunt myself with thousands of pictures of perfect sofas, when I know I’ll get the one in the January sales that himself and myself can agree on?

But - in the way one hand of mine reaches for my phone as the other switches on the kettle - back to Instagram. Because it’s delicious. You can curate what you see, everything from sarcastic motherhood memes to meditation tips to views from a specific window in a specific house in Tuscany. You can keep up with current affairs, get the highlights of your favourite podcast and gather tips on what Spring bulbs to plant. You don’t have to follow real-life friends out of politeness but, even better, you can follow real-life celebrities and start to imagine you have a real-life rapport with them! Kevin Bacon once watched a story of mine that I mentioned him in and, honestly, a little bit of my world exploded. I have never quite recovered.

Having been on Instagram now for six years, I do feel a little cheated at how it’s started to change. Every day it leans closer towards becoming a personality-less functional tool of mass promotion and it’s definitely lost its sparkle a little. When I started out with my little account which was set up to promote a new blog, it felt so exciting to see who might engage with photographs I posted. When I hash-tagged ‘blog’ or ‘iwrite’, other bloggers and writers would welcome me to the community, generously comment on a photo and almost always follow along. It was possible to grow a little tribe on my phone which was supportive and real. I’ve built relationships and made friendships on Instagram - a network of followers which have been a true asset. A boost to the ego, sure, but also of practical value when you’re writing in a bubble and need an adult outlet after catering to small children’s needs all day. For me, that ability to network has dwindled somewhat. Perhaps I’ve mixed with the maximum amount of people I’m ever going to connect with? But with a whole world out there, I can’t help but feel that a level of general fatigue and cynicism has set in.

I still value the access to communication and feedback I have within the Instagram world. Absolutely any person can say what they think and broadcast it on Instagram. You can shout about a business or a charity you’re passionate about and even weigh in on issues and current affairs if that’s your bag. Although I feel less people now are inclined to use it as a podium, the opportunity, the vehicle is still there. Naturally, most people who communicate in the public sphere tend to look and feel like they belong there but, in truth, we all have a voice and an opinion and a right to share our thoughts. The more polished Instagram has become the less inclined I feel ‘ordinary everyday’ people are to use their voice. Sure I should be more visible and vocal myself… only I’m terrified of appearing vain or full of self-importance. Oh, and let’s not forget there’s cancel culture to contend with too. The initial, giddy openness that was once Instagram’s trademark seems to have been replaced with observance and apathy, which is such a shame.

The element of perfection on Instagram is a gripe for many too, I get it. But I look at my own messy kitchen all day long, thank you very much - I go to the internet for an escape! We all need a bit of fluff.

I, myself, only post pretty pictures, like it’s some kind of personal duty to spread the beauty. I have carefully curated 1.5k picture-perfect images and can’t help but feel that it’s a kind of investment. My Instagram account has become a portfolio of sorts, I think, deludedly, something to show for my time in the world of stay-at-home-parenthood - besides the children, of course. No matter how jaded Instagram may become, how could I possibly step away? I’ve put in too much time and energy. I have friends who have tired of the app and stopped posting and it’s like their grid stands frozen in time - a monument to the vibrancy and passion that used to be. I mean, if I was to stop posting, where would all that already-spent energy go? Isn’t there supposed to be some kind of pay-off? Or is the act of creativity ‘it’?

Deep indeed… And I know what you’re thinking - I’m over-invested. And maybe I am. Or maybe I just find it hard to let things go.

It’s October, and I’m taking part in a beautiful little creative project. An annual Instagram photographic challenge, to be specific, with daily prompts to inspire posts which capture the joy of Autumn and the beauty of October. It’s perfectly timed, between the kids settling back to school and the rush that the end of the year (and you-know-what) brings, and it’s something I look forward to every year. Certainly, in the last two years, it has served to reinvigorate my basic love of taking and posting pretty photographs.

And so, for now, I will stay. There is a whole lot to be said for being ‘constructive’, but at the end of the day, there is nothing nicer than sitting down with a biscuit and a cuppa, opening up the app and seeing where it leads. Being human is neither pretty or perfect - but thankfully we can pretend for a while thanks to Instagram. And what can possibly be wrong with that?

I have no doubt but that experts in the area of art and creativity would say that the act of creation is enough. And yet, as humans we want to be witnessed - our viewpoint, our moments, our thoughts, our life experiences. We want to share, we are communal beings. So if I can’t let go yet, I will blame my human-ness. And when I do, no doubt I will look back and think of Instagram as a glorious hobby that I once loved, back in the day.