Breaking ‘Gram
It the weeks leading up to Memorial Day weekend, I got a familiar feeling in my gut. A feeling that signaled the need for change. A feeling that was comprised of both excitement and fear - but, noticeably, more excitement than fear. A feeling that would not let go, and only grew stronger as the holiday weekend approached.
The feeling expressed itself through my inner voice and my inner voice piped up to say, “I am going to take a break from Instagram from Memorial Day to Labor Day.”
The idea of taking a months-long break from Instagram used to seem ludicrous to me. Instagram is where my business is based, after all! It’s where I get my clients, make connections, and gain inspiration… or is it?
Yes, some of my clients have come through Instagram, but I have gotten more clients through word of mouth, podcast appearances, and private online groups.
Yes, I do connect directly with people on Instagram, but the connections I forge through coaching, podcasts, private groups, and - dare I say - real life interactions are both more professionally fruitful and personally fulfilling.
And yes, I am sometimes inspired by the content I see on Instagram, but I know that for every truly inspiring post there are dozens of posts that trigger my subconscious into self-judgment and negative self-talk. No matter how tightly I curate my feed, it is impossible not to compare myself and my content to others.
This is the trap of social media. As much as we can consciously practice self-kindness and remind ourselves that comparison is the thief of joy, we cannot control how our subconscious takes in endless images and videos - almost all of which are edited and filtered. And it’s in that constant subconscious comparison that it’s all too easy to lose ourselves.
There is a lot of great content on Instagram. There is also a lot of noise. And I have come to the realization that if I continue my Instagram overuse, I am going to lose my voice in all that noise.
Here’s the real kicker, the realization that both hastened and strengthened my desire to change my behavior: I have been using Instagram as a crutch, just like I once used alcohol.
Oops. Yup. Doh!
I have convinced myself that I need to be on this social media network in order to be a good coach, just as I once convinced myself that I needed alcohol in order to be a good mom. None of this is true. Case in point: I have been off Instagram for several days now and guess what? I am still coaching. And I am still good at it. My business hasn’t stopped because I stopped using social media to enable the perpetuation of my insecurities - I mean, to get clients and get inspired. Nope, I actually do mean to enable the perpetuation of my insecurities. Because that’s what Instagram was really doing.
Instagram, like alcohol, has been my escape hatch. My easy button. It’s where I go in a fit of procrastination, or to check out from doing a difficult task, or to avoid discomfort of any kind, really. Professional, personal, parental - scrolling Instagram smoothed right over life’s bumps. Alas, when I managed to click away, the bumpy stuff was still there, only now it was spiked with scroll-guilt.
Just like alcohol, Instagram has been keeping me small. I have wanted to write my own book for years, and I have two book ideas that I want to pursue. But because I have been prioritizing Instagram posts (gotta keep up with that algorithm, amirite?!), I haven’t been doing the long-form writing that I need to practice in order to make my life-long dream of becoming a published author a reality. I love writing pithy, short-form posts. I truly do. But I also have to face that fact that every small post on Instagram is time away from my big book projects.
I am a gray area Instagram user. I cannot just take it or leave it. But I am also not so deeply addicted that I am beyond helping myself. That is exactly what I am doing with this summertime break. And it’s going pretty darn well so far.
When I took my first break from alcohol, Dry January 2018, I was fortunate to experience the fabled “pink cloud” of sobriety. For me, the pink cloud was a euphoria of capability, limitlessness, and joy. Now, almost five years sober, I can say that the pink cloud was an amuse-bouche of alcohol freedom: a little taste of the best moments of living unburdened by booze.
The morning after I posted about my Instagram break, I had another little pink cloud moment. I sat at my desk and wrote a brain dump of all the topics I want to explore through long-form writing, plus some new ideas for my books. It was a moment of clarity and creativity. A moment of true inspiration, not imitation. A little taste, I think, of what it will be like to live Instagram-free.
So what does this mean? More blog posts, more newsletters (sign up here!), and I’m now posting on Medium, too! If you’re a Medium reader, please follow me there and share my profile with friends. I have a lot to say now that I’ve found my voice again. So stay tuned!
