I have a love/hate thing with Instagram. I’ve been an avid user and it has been incredibly popular in my IRL social-circles over the last 5-10 years. Much has been said about the mechanics underpinning it but I’ve embarked on this experiment since the beginning of this year:
I started deleting Instagram every Sunday evening and installing every Friday.
I had this hypothesis that it’s the weekends that people have the best stuff to share and when it makes sense for me to still exist to everyone. And then nobody notices me disappear over the week. It’s a lot more enjoyable to be engaging with others’ content when you’re posting your own.
But the surprising result, after a few months, is that I’ve started missing weekends. The memory of all those people has faded and so has the urge to share.
Which brings me to a point: on one hand I do feel better day to day, but I’ve also felt a bit of a mourning period not being reminded about acquaintances’ lives. Kind of like a smoker who’s now missing out on social smoke breaks.
>... but I’ve also felt a bit of a mourning period not being reminded about acquaintances’ lives.
We don't need to be reminded of acquaintances lives - what people I barely know do in their free time has zero bearing on my life. They're acquaintances, not friends, so their actual importance/impact to my life is next to nil.
I never smoked but often hung out with smokers outside on their lunch breaks. If an acquaintance is truly important to us, we can be reminded of our acquaintances lives by making an effort to turn them into real friendships that interact with each other in meatspace.
I started deleting Instagram every Sunday evening and installing every Friday.
I had this hypothesis that it’s the weekends that people have the best stuff to share and when it makes sense for me to still exist to everyone. And then nobody notices me disappear over the week. It’s a lot more enjoyable to be engaging with others’ content when you’re posting your own.
But the surprising result, after a few months, is that I’ve started missing weekends. The memory of all those people has faded and so has the urge to share.
Which brings me to a point: on one hand I do feel better day to day, but I’ve also felt a bit of a mourning period not being reminded about acquaintances’ lives. Kind of like a smoker who’s now missing out on social smoke breaks.