On Thursday afternoon, I deleted Instagram from my phone in an effort to give myself a break from it all. I do this from time to time, and by time to time, I mean very rarely. But after the last few weeks of social media information wars raging from all sides, I felt it was necessary to take a big step back.
While I did log in via desktop a few times just to handle my inbox and ensure I didn’t come back to an overwhelming amount of DMs, I didn’t scroll, I didn’t post, I didn’t pick up my phone 75 times throughout the day and absent-mindedly open the app that has me by the proverbial balls most days. My sister was in town, so I leaned into that. I had a celebratory dinner for a friend and was fully present (besides all the alcohol I drank, but I’ll get to that in a bit). My husband and I went to a show and I didn’t post a ton of footage about it that no one cares about. I finally got my tragus piercing taken out after six months of agony, and didn’t tell the general public in real-time.
And it all felt really good.
So good, in fact, that I’m thinking I may make this “no IG weekends” thing a thing. And maybe make this Monday morning letter recapping the no IG weekend a thing for paying members.
You in?