6+ Months Off Instagram, And Getting Bored Of Toxicity

My recent sabbatical from the platform, and how toxic relationships became so very boring after healing.

I recently jumped back on Instagram after a 6+ month break. As a woman and artist, I found the platform left me feeling too exposed.

As I’ve said before, my body is my pen, too. That might mean fit modeling for brands that employee me as a writer, or participating in campaigns my friends or colleagues produce. It also means just taking photos for fun by myself; I find it interesting to work with these long limbs, appendages that certain times I cursed and others I praised.

There are stories in these bones - literally.

My cancer had spread all the ay into my bones, and there is still a dead cancer tumor in my chest, right next to my heart. Not to mention all throughout my lymphatic system. Couple that with two eating disorders…although lately, I’ve been wondering if I had a third eating disorder, orthorexia. The obsession with healthy eating.

In any case, my body and I have had a wild ride of life together.

To be able to use this vehicle for art is not just fun, it’s a feat for me.

It’s symbolic of the truce we (my body and my mind) fought long and hard to reach.

So at first, sharing photos of it and me on Instagram felt like a rush. Eventually, though, it made me feel vulnerable. I wanted to share myself; but the platform is not primarily used for uplifting one another. As my now-husband and I first fell in love, we experienced the threat of previous partners who were watching us a little too closely. It became necessary to enact more privacy.

I then read How To Break Up With Your Phone after a night I realized my new spouse and I were both on our phones in our bed together (ew). Followed by The Anxious Generation.

Equipped with all that knowledge, I had to drop off.

Then, as I started here on Substack, I wanted to reconnect with it. Post the photos I create for these posts to my friends there, too. (They take a lot of effort, shown in Exhibit A below.)

But returning felt a little like going back to a toxic friendship after one has ‘done the work’. I don’t plan to leave, but the thrill is gone.

Not unlike the years I spent in 12-step recovery for codependency, I lost my lust for the inconsistency. Through healing my addiction to unreliability, I didn’t need the wild, endorphin-inducing of that romantic back-and-forth; loved one day, hated the next.

The unpredictability of avoidantly-attached partners became boringly predictable.

Instagram feels a bit the same. I no longer crave anything from it. I’ve turned off like-counts. I no longer get the rush, or spend days crafting a caption. I just post, and let it be.

Just like yesterday’s reflection on the importance of boredom, I’m happy to be bored with Instagram. I find this place much happier, more inspiring, better for my soul. I won’t be leaving today but Jake is off the platform indefinitely now. I’m excited to see how it deepens his relationship to himself, his memories, his life in the present moment. More to come.

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