Good-bye, Instagram.

How Instagram sabotaged my motherhood.

Where to begin.. my relationship with Instagram as a “content creator” (they didn’t used to call us that) began back in 2017, when we bought our farmhouse.

The HGTV show “Fixer Upper” was at its peak popularity then, so when I saw a rundown farmhouse for sale about 15 minutes from our garage-apartment rental I knew we just HAD to see it. We owned the home a few months later and I innocently started both an Instagram and Youtube account to document our renovation journey.

Back then Instagram was fun. Some of you may remember these days. No algorithm. No explore page. Stories may have been around, but it was a very new feature if so. You simply posted a pretty picture with a thoughtful caption and that was that. The people that followed you engaged with it (though it wasn’t called engagement then, either) and you moved on. People rarely went “viral” and even more rarely made an income from the app.

I had always shared pictures of our home. It was my passion. I also loved to write, so the idea that I could simply share a pretty picture of our home (passion #1) and use words to enhance the feeling of the picture (passion #2) together in one spot was a delightful creative outlet for me.

As the years went on the app changed significantly. Reels entered the scene as well as the explore page and suddenly anyone and everyone was able to be “discovered”. Every user on the platform was swiftly inundated with ideas and entertainment at warp speed. The minute-long videos were efficient for the creators to create and addictive for the consumers to consume.

Shortly after having my third baby (the most jarring and overwhelming season of my life by a landslide) I decided to join a multi-level marketing company (I heard that eye roll). Yes, I was allured by the ability to bring in an income from home. My husband is a hard-working, blue collar man and the extra money sounded like a dream come true. And in order to maximize my reach, I decided I better start creating content. It didn’t before I went viral.

Enter: the slow destruction of all my creative abilities, problem-solving skills and critical thinking, and, with them, my chance at succeeding in motherhood.

Not only was I consuming content at the rate of the average user of the app, but I was also beginning to obsess over the analytics and engagement numbers. The dopamine hit of every new follower, like and comment was addicting. I would refresh the app multiple times an hour, in awe of how quickly my account was growing.

But the thing is, when your account goes viral, it doesn’t stay viral. It’s a hamster wheel of sorts. If you “get off” (stop posting) the wheel stops. Your numbers plummet. You quickly go from being somebody to nobody. The chariot turns back into a pumpkin, so to speak. There’s really only one option, don’t stop.

So I didn’t. I posted stories and a reel every day. I engaged with followers, responded to messages all the while continuing to be a consumer of content as well. My brain felt like it was slowly disintegrating. I was short with my children and my house was a wreck. I never knew what was for dinner and I was completely overwhelmed with the mountain of tasks left undone while I spent hours a day on the life-sucking app. If I did have a moment where I had already done my online tasks for the day and I was able to look up at my home from the blue light drug in my hand, I was quickly overrun with anxiety. To mitigate this anxiety I would jump back to the app and mindlessly consume. It numbed the overwhelm, at least for a short time, and it kept my mind in a state of unthinking. “Just watch, don’t think” beckoned that little purple square on my home screen.

Social media can be a place for wonderful ideas, schools of thought, and helpful information to be exchanged… or so they say. But when every idea is coming at you in minute-long intervals, there is no time to deeply contemplate what you have just consumed. By the time you come across something meaningful that you may actually want to mull over, your brain is unable to do so.

“The limitations of my physical senses mean I can only hear so many voices, so many words at one time. But the online world is unresting. Repose and stillness are antithetical to the nature of the internet. Which is to produce new information every hour of the day. Moderation, and even mental limitation, are concepts not applicable to online reality.” - Sarah Clarkson, The Lifegiving Home

Sarah and Sally Clarkson wrote The Lifegiving Home well before the rise of reels and stories, so how much more applicable is this quote today.

I realized I was replacing my real life with a virtual life. What sorrow. How many moments with my precious children did I miss because I was staring at my phone? How many times did I leave them feeling second-rate to the little rectangle “mommy is always looking at”? How much discontentment and strife did I create by allowing myself to become a slave to my virtual addiction?

After many failed attempts at moderating my screen usage, it was time to face reality. I was unable to live a completely full, present life with time and mental bandwidth for deep contemplation and soul-enriching moments while also being “connected” online. I had to choose.

And choose I did. As of today my accounts are gone. Not just the apps, with the ability to redownload them on a whim. No.. they have been permanently deleted from my life, never to exist again. What freedom.

We do not have to spend our motherhood years comparing every decision we are making, wondering why we never pursued those creative interests (or worse, forgetting what they were altogether), and feeling discontent in every area of our lives. If we have the power to eliminate something that does not bear good fruit, why continue to allow the rotten fruit to exist? It really sounds like such a simple choice, when you think of it that way.

“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me.” John 15:4