The Found Bin
Part 3 to Offline: What I've Loved about Leaving Instagram
Finally, the part I’ve been disclaiming for two weeks. The cliché, the truth: I really like not having Instagram on my phone anymore.
I planned these last two essays originally as one post, entitled “the lost and found”. Of course, attempting to fit all of my thoughts on the results of my experiment into one essay meant that by the time I got to the “Found” half, the essay was too long for email format, according to the Substack drafting program. This foiled my plan to seamlessly correlate many “found” items to their respective “lost” ones, AKA the experiences that make each lost thing worth it, or what I’m doing to replace them. My new plan? Encourage you to read parts 1 and 2, and remind you about what I’m replacing wherever necessary.
The long story short, though? I really love being off of Instagram. It’s good for me and my life. I have to think about things I didn’t have to before; I have to choose what I consume without scrolling. I get to listen to my friends better; I get to work at living my values rather than aestheticizing them. I love it.
This is the found collection.
Selfies. (As opposed to what I’ve wanted to post)
I like how I look a lot more than I did before. I’ve said “I came back with Europe with perfect hair and perfect skin” to myself in the mirror often. I don’t cringe looking at these selfies, nor do I cringe taking them. And for me, someone whose body is constantly ridiculed and used to sell every diet on the planet in media, particularly social media, this is probably the healthiest I’ve been in a while.
Not to mention, I don’t feel the need to scream to everyone LOOK HOW GOOD I LOOK whenever I take these (and this is a small selection of my recent selfies, trust I am not showing most hehe). I don’t care if other people know about this confidence thing (unless I’m explaining the benefits of being off insta). I don’t have to perform the self-love or confidence for it to be real, contrary to Instagram ethos. Even the fat girl, body positive, and fat liberation spaces I’ve been a part of online rely on the performance and projection of confidence, which has it’s place, but that place is not my head. Online, fat people have to perform self love in order to justify their participation in posting at all. It’s almost like we have to act like we like ourselves enough to post ourselves to prove we aren’t comparing ourselves to other posts of people proving they like themselves…. So now, my confidence is my business.
Actually, a few weeks ago, a friend of mine and I went thrifting for Ren Faire clothes, and we found one that I got so excited about, because it reminded me of my DND character, etc, etc. I took a little video of myself posing like a fighter in it, and posted it on Snapchat, the last man standing in my social media array. I put it on a story that I thought was pretty private, meant for nerd-related thoughts. However. An acquaintance I didn’t know was on that story swiped up to tell me it looked cool, and while flattered/gratified/whatever, I freaked. Why were you here? I immediately removed about 80% of the viewers from the story.
The crazy thing was, I could have just texted the specific people I wanted to know and look and see. I just defaulted to posting to my story so as to be less of a social pressure on them to respond or care about something I wasn’t sure if they would. More on that idea later, but safe to say that I don’t want people to have that much access to me. I like keeping myself to myself more than I used to.
In short: I take a lot of selfies that I keep to myself because I like them. I like me.
Conversations with Friends. (As opposed to being MIA)
Not the book, though a note on books later.
I’ve always been able to go to my friends for the deep things, for life updates, for things of consequence. But I’ve gotten used to putting the silly stuff, or the less consequential stuff, or anything I worry wouldn’t be of immediate interest to them, on stories instead. Oftentimes they respond anyway, swiping up to comment or laugh, but the formality was how I learned to brace whatever I’ve shared with a perpetual “you don’t have to respond but I wanted to say that I did X”.
But, this week, I pushed myself. I told a few of my friends when I got a new PR at the gym, my mile time that I’ve been working on since I got home. And they were excited for me, and proud of me, and I didn’t have to apologize or intentionally leave room for them to be less pressured by my friendship.
Let me say that again. I am learning that I don’t have to worry about pressuring my friends with my friendship. They are my friends. They want to hear about my dumb stuff. Just as I miss theirs, they miss mine.
How far have we fallen that we are scared to just say things to people for fear of coming on too strong? Do we have to shout into a void because we are scared no one will come close enough to listen?
Maybe I’m generalizing, being dramatic, whatever. But maybe I’m not. Maybe the culture of the “story” is just that: a cry for attention that we don’t think we deserve. This article seems to say similar things about photodump posting, so maybe I’m onto something (I’d highly recommend the read, by the way).
I have been quite lucky to receive this kind of treatment back, by the way. I want to know when my friends have adopted more stuffed animals, and they tell me. I want them to ask me about town gossip, and they do. I want them to text me about their concerts and their vacations, and they do. I want them to tell me how they did on the NYT games, and they do. One of my friends actually texts me when she posts something on Instagram, just to keep me in the loop! It was the most lovely thing to see that.
In fact, I look forward to texts now far more often than I used to. I love texting my friends, I love calling them, I love FaceTiming them, I love emailing them, I love sitting in their cars and their living rooms just to spend time together. And the more we do this offline, the more I remind myself that They love to do that too. My friends love me back.
And as I remind myself of the certainty of these relationships, the fear of losing the more distant ones fades. If my social network was inflated, I’m no longer scared of letting the air out of the balloon. In fact, I’m more and more convinced it barely matters. People who want to keep my company, will. And not everyone has to. And I don’t need to pretend I’m keeping their company the way we were online.
Checking My Messages. (As opposed to being MIA, in a different way)
I recently got my film photos back from Europe (be prepared for as many of those as I can squeeze into every newsletter from now till the end of time. I love them. And part of what I loved was waiting, was getting them back now, more than a month since coming home. It’s like a reminder of the permanency of our memories, our relationships, our little world.
Checking up on messages feels like that too.
I get to open instagram.com, when I do, and check my messages like its 2003 and I just got home. It’s glamorous and a crazy kind of fulfilling, to know that these messages have permanency too, these conversations don’t have to be fleeting. They are correspondence, same as any, and I’ll follow up because I care about the conversation, not because I just happen to be online. Immediacy doesn’t necessarily correspond to how much care is in a relationship. I’ve had plenty of instant gratification that meant nothing. It’s, frankly, awesome to know that there isn’t as much rush. There’s space enough to hear, wait, and be heard.
Not to mention, it really replaces the popularity I was so scared of losing. Now, it helps that my photoshoot with dreamworldgirlzine just dropped (!!!) see it here!
For some reason it won’t embed, but PLEASE GO CHECK IT OUT!!! It is the culmination of months of thinking and planning and the ultimate result of this post over here! Isn’t that crazy! Good things happen!
And let me tell you, you don’t have to be active on Insta to feel how, well, popular this became. In fact, my favorite teacher from high school commented and I went truly crazy, just thrilled beyond belief. And you know what? I didn’t need to be active for more than the posting/reposting/tagging time. But it was work, so it felt like the right amount of effort. I don’t need to work that hard unless it is, well, work. Kind of magic, that distinction.
So yes, checking my messages is probably the most vain habit I’ve started since being off instagram, but it’s controlled. It’s a memento of permanence. It’s an acknowledgement of legitimate work. And I’m happy with that.
Ethical Intentions. (As opposed to my ethical worries)
I wrote a post a few weeks ago about forms of resistance that I debate, particularly financial resistance. I questioned what it actually means to try to spend and save radically. So I’ll let that stand as the relevant background for these habits. In that post I resolve to reallocate my wealth instead of focusing on accumulating it, promising to think critically about excess, resource hoarding, and greed.
But what am I actually doing? Last week I worried that Instagram posting constitutes a significant amount of activism, directing media attention and thus money towards the marginalized and mobilizing people against the marginalizers and oppressors. Luckily, in pointing out the purpose (mobility), I find the solution. Here’s what I’m doing to be active in my resistance, rather than aestheticizing it.
I wear a mask on public transit. This is a goal that I am helping myself with by keeping a mask in my backpack, and giving myself reminders in my purse next to the cash I use to pay for my ticket. It’s step one in being more conscious of the not-really-post-COVID world we live in.
I do not shop on Amazon. Full stop. When I receive gift cards II convert them into other gift cards.
I don’t eat at Starbucks or McDonalds. I personally prefer Dunkin hot chocolate and Portillo’s or Cane’s for fast food. (I will say that I do visit my friend who UNIONIZED HER STARBUCKS!!! LETS GO! To say hi, because that my friends is the exact thing we want Starbucks to be doing! So let’s go!)
I don’t pay for subscriptions to Disney properties. I pay for my own Spotify and Dropout.tv. And lowkey, that and my parent’s accounts are all I need. I do try to mostly avoid using my parent’s Disney accounts so that when I’m out of the house I don’t buy my own! I share my passwords with my friends, we have a system of who owns which account. It’s dope.
I support student organizations as much as I can sustain. More often, I support my friends who are suffering from my academic institution’s crackdown on organizers.
I read, I teach myself. Some recent reads/recs. Bought or read from local bookstores (not chains) and my local library!!
My TBR:
Freedom is A Constant Struggle, Angela Davis
Let This Radicalize You: Organizing and the Revolution of Reciprocal Care, Kelly Hayes and Mariame Kaba
Among fiction novels, trying to read politically expansive or critical, international, and diverse perspectives.
again, USING AND SUPPORTING MY LOCAL LIBRARY. I LOVE MY LOCAL LIBRARY. YOU SHOULD TOO!
I do not buy fast fashion, even though as a fat person that is hard, expensive, and layers upon layers of difficult. It’s so bad for the planet.
I bike a lot. I wish it was more of a choice, but either way, yay planet.
That’s what I’m remembering. This, and trying to talk to people. I’ve found that more than most things, talking to people and owning up to my values and not just bending to the conversation. It’s harder, but it’s more direct. And I’m trying.
Time to myself. (As opposed to addiction)
The way I’ve been fighting my YouTube addiction is Spotify. (I know it’s one vice for another, but one I don’t have to look, I just listen.) When I’m doing anything that I’d want to have extra entertainment on for, I put on music. Sometimes, a podcast. It helps, because then I put my phone down. Time with music is time well spent.
Spending my time well is the other best thing, the gift of making Instagram go away on my phone. Even though I started this year with only 20 minutes, those 20 would quickly become 35, become 50, and so on. Not to mention the time I would spend on TikTok before that, the time I still burn on YouTube. Everyone says so, but those minutes become hours, and I deserve to spend that time with myself.
I promised myself when I turned 20, that after a year of keeping everyone’s company but my own, I would keep my own company. I would pay attention, I would meet my needs, I would do right by myself, my body, my heart, and my mind. In Europe, I did sometimes, for sure. There’s something about spending time on cobblestone streets and ancient ruins and early churches that puts you in your own mind and body, I’ve written excessively about that. But coming home, the best thing that’s kept me to my word is being offline.
I read more, I find activities to do, I move my body, I make art. I write, I write, I write. But I’ve done it myself, for myself, with myself. And that’s the best part of being offline. If you want more recommendations of what to do besides Instagram, let me know, but this is all for now. It’s good for me, it might be good for you. Thanks for listening, for staying in my loop.
Love,
Maria