Gently - on leaving social media
It’s been just a little over two weeks since I’ve bid farewell to Instagram, and it feels so right.
It feels slightly terrifying, too.
The platform has been such a magical way to not only connect with others, but also to network, organize, learn, share. As mundane creatives, it has given us an exposure we would otherwise just not have access to. And so it was fun — in the beginning. I joined the platform 7 years ago, by a friends’ recommendation (I had never even had a Facebook account and wasn’t very excited about the concept of social media in general), but it was pure delight. At the time, we were living in the little goat shed on the mountains, in the small remote village where my grandparents had lived their whole lives and my father grew up. We didn’t have friends nearby. Everyone in the village was over 60 years old, and they were our community and teachers. And yet, I kind of wanted to meet other people, even if through a screen, that were living in little stone homes and growing gardens. Remember, these were the early days of Instagram. The whole back-to-the Land movement hadn’t been so blatantly adopted by far-right folks and white supremacists with their #tradwife ideas. It was just fun, and quiet, and square photos of garden harvests and breakfast flatlays.
I’m going on a tangent here. It doesn’t really matter anymore, what the platform was. Without undermining the very big and real importance it has a place of organization for movements, mutual aid and other initiatives, the weight it bears on creators is heavy and unfair. The social network became social media, where we broadcast our lives for… for what, exactly? Exposure, opportunities, followers? And at what cost? Photographers have been swept under the rug, and whoever is the flashiest, more sensationalist, better at turning information into “bite-sized”, meme-able content gets applauded. I’ve weighed the pros and cons of being part of this dynamic, and it doesn’t feel right for me anymore.
So many good things came to my life from Instagram. I made life-long friends, some of which we’ve met in real life, others we text / call/ email/ send parcels to each other. I would have probably never written a book were it not for this platform. I wouldn’t have been invited to contribute to magazines. Maybe I wouldn’t even consider myself a photographer or a writer, at all.
The decision wasn’t taken lightly, but it was taken in peace. My account is still there, just private now instead of deactivated, so that if anyone finds it and wants to work with me to some extent, can still find my blog and send me an email. I also want to focus more on photography work, and creating ways for folks to find it + get in touch with me.
I’m also facing this time with openness and creativity. Which other ways can I feel connected to the friends I’ve made on the platform? Which other ways can I share my work? Be open to opportunities that bring financial support to me and my family?
Most of all, I’m enjoying this algorithm-free life. I know it’s only been two weeks, but my hand doesn’t slip to my pocket when I’m out for a walk in the forest and the view is breathtaking (heck, most times the phone isn’t even in my pocket anymore). At night, I don’t dream of Instagram anymore. I’m enjoying a sense of grounding these days, without giving attention to what is shareable and isn’t. And that feels so good.
Some habits are hard to let go of, though. Sometimes, when I grab my phone to see the time, my thumb stills hovers over where the app used to be on my phone. I crave the dopamine rush. I read the news on my phone when I’m waiting for something more often than before.
But I’m also knitting more often. Texting friends more. Reading blogs. Going for walks. Finding magic and beauty in cloud formations, unusual mushrooms, animal tracks. I spend more time making my own things instead of seeing others making their things. And I feel calmer, gentler, more present and at peace.
Thing I’ve done these past two weeks include:
harvesting mushrooms in the forest we call home (parasols, saffron milk caps and slippery jacks)
having friends visit and play the accordion in our kitchen
continuing to put up our sheep fence with the help volunteers / new friends
making a small batch of calendula + plantain salve to list in the shop
hopping on the train to the big city to cuddle up with friends and getting new tattoos done
knitting hats for solstice gifts
And although I find myself photographing less these days, that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, I like that, once again, I get to chose when to bring our my camera because I find delight in a given scene, or have a creative photography assignment, rather than because I think the algorithm will like it and thus it will perform well.
This morning, I brough out my camera and twirled around in linen dresses for a photography assignment. I got to shoot a couple gorgeous dresses by Son de Flor for photography, and not advertisement, and that simple fact filled my heart with joy. Of course, I kind of fell in love with the dresses, so I went to their website and signed up for their affiliate program anyway. So if you’re thinking of gifting yourself or a friend one of their dresses, here you have it!
And finally, because it’s getting late and I should turn off my laptop, here are a few resources I’d love to share with y’all. These are books and podcasts and articles and folks that really helped me in my decision of quitting social media, and I hope some of them will resonate with you — and even encourage you, if you’re contemplating doing the same.
The Circle, by Dave Eggers. This book is dystopian, thrilling and absolutely unputdownable. If I had to pick only one book from this entire year, this would be it.
The author of the above article in conversation with Sean Illing on The Gray Area podcast - The End of Social Media
Another episode form The Gray Area - Why We Can’t Pay Attention Anymore
For The Wild, with Antonio López - on the Colonization of Our Attention
The Off the Grid podcast has some lovely episodes, and it’s all about thriving without social media, algorithm-free.
Yarrow Magdalena’s Embodied Business Podcast, #64 Living without social media or a smartphone
Camilla Jørvad, an artist I connected with through social media, who has since left Instagram and whose emails I look forward to with excitement. They’re delightful, you can sign up at the bottom of her page!
This is it for today. Night is falling, the wood stove is on with its fiery warmth, and I’ll cuddle down next to my daughter with a book while dinner cooks on the wood stove. The rain is pattering against the roof once again, one of my favorite sounds in the whole world, and I want to take it all in.
Thank you for being here, friends. I am so grateful for each one of you.