Goodbye Instagram?

Several authors and creatives I follow recently announced, with fanfare, that they are leaving Instagram… only to confess in the next breath that they are, actually, just giving the keys to a member of a team who will still continue posting important updates on their behalf. 

These announcements made me stop and think.

Many of us would gladly leave Instagram behind - it’s often not good for our mental health, the reach is not what it used to be, dancing on reels feels icky, and Meta is pretty evil if you ask me…

And yet we don’t. Why?

Well - as these creators admit themselves by not fully deleting their Instagram accounts - it’s because despite all its flaws Instagram is still a valuable marketing tool, even if you have a massive newsletter list (because yes, owning an email list is a lot better than being at the mercy of an algorithm but you’re still fighting with email deliverability rates and spam filters and attention spans). Plus: all eggs, one basket, that sort of thing.

And most of us simply don’t have the luxury to outsource it to somebody else.

So, I think, the conversation then needs to happen not around how we are “fake leaving” Instagram and how this privilege makes us feel liberated in doing so because mental health reasons, duh - but how can we adapt and navigate it better going forward, if we choose to remain on it. 

Here’s how I have been using Instagram over the past year:

I stopped curating it - and censoring myself in the process.

About a year ago I decided I no longer cared about my Instagram “looking consistent” or focused on family photography only. I resolved to keeping it a low expectation place where I would share personal work (that is often not even photography per se), visual notes, and my thoughts on a variety of subjects - including political ones (because honestly, everything is political these days).

I refuse to be reduced to performing as flawless personal brand, so vanilla it’s boring - or if I am a brand, then my brand is a messy and flawed human being with lots of opinions and side-interests. It’s also part of my continuous unmasking as a neurodivergent woman. Deal with it.

In all my years as a family photographer, I maybe had one booking come from Instagram, and one from Facebook - everything else has been from my website and personal recommendations. This is not to say it’s the same for all photography businesses. I have photographer friends whose whole calendar is being booked from Instagram leads (for example, for their wedding photography business, or for creative product photography) but for my particular clients and my business it’s simply not the case. My existing clients do follow me on there (and future clients might come and check me out before booking) and I’m only happy for them to see me as a full human being with a variety of opinions and interests beyond the service I provide them.

And yes, I use Instagram to drive traffic back to here, asking people to subscribe to my Substack, because here I can expand a thought into a lot more than 2,200 characters and have a conversation beyond a couple of heart emojis. 

(It’s obviously different for my other business which is focused on mentoring and working with photographers because yes, photographers do spend a lot of time on Instagram. Case in point: think about who your clients are, adjust accordingly.)

I actively unfollow or mute accounts that don’t make me feel good.

A few months ago I culled the list of people I follow from about 2500 to just about 900 (it’s still too much - I’m working on it).

Sometimes I don’t even follow good friends whose work I genuinely admire. And it’s precisely why I don’t follow them - I don’t want to be jolted into comparisonitis when I’m having a bad day and feeling insecure and vulnerable. I do make a point to manually check out their latest updates when I feel robust enough to cheer them on without being too hard on myself and my perceived failings as a photographer/mother/human being. 

I also have a list of people who I care enough about to make sure to check out and engage with regularly even if the algorithm doesn’t show them to me - this is something new I’m trying to be more intentional with in the new year.

I delete the app from my phone every now and again.

I know myself and I do fall into doom-scrolling. A lot. Particularly when the world is on fire like it is right now.

I do think it’s important to stay engaged and bear witness, to listen to diverse voices, to not pretend things aren’t happening, and yes, do keyboard activism (and don’t you go bashing keyboard activists… for many it’s the only option to contribute, especially for parents or people with disabilities of health issues - and it’s better than doing nothing at all and often it’s a stepping stone to physical world activism and organising, too).

But when I notice myself spiralling, I delete the thing off my phone. Sometimes just for a day, so I’m not tempted to open the app late at night, Sometimes for a week so I can fully recalibrate and rest. When I’m ready, I install it back on.

And that’s it, really.

It’s not that complicated.

So, no, I’m not quitting Instagram in 2024. But I’m using it with my eyes open, understanding it’s dangers and limitations, trying to use it for good whenever I can - and building a community elsewhere in the meantime.

How about you?