Instagram and the Pings of Approval

InstaFatigue has finally caught up with me.

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As I emerge from my Christmas cocoon and navigate the New Year, a vibe from years past continues to hang over me: feeling tired of most social media platforms, particularly Instagram.

The mental exhaustion I endured for most of 2023 hit a breaking point in late November: I was, to put it bluntly, a fucking mess at best. I knew that my unhealthy levels of social media consumption were part of the bigger problem, so for my sanity, I took a digital break in December.

I’m not going to kid myself (or you) by calling it a detox, as I was still online for things like WhatsApp and the very few work gigs I had going on, but leaving Instagram alone was the plan.

I can admit that I am addicted to my iPhone. That slick, glossy millstone is the first thing I reach for when I wake up and the last thing I tap when I get into bed. The fact that it’s my alarm clock doesn’t help (I really need to change that, pronto) - still, I’ll check the news and my emails and scroll through all the social media apps I have installed on it before I crawl out of bed and start my day.

Doomscrolling and constantly comparing myself to others who appeared to have their lives together was getting me down—and I knew that feeling would only get worse over the festive period—so I stayed off Instagram for most of last month in an attempt to enjoy life offline. The Holidays often feel like the worst time to be on the Grid for a couple of reasons:

1. Falling into the tinsel hole of constantly comparing yourself to other people with the ‘perfect’ Christmas set-up and coveting it is the ultimate thief of joy at what’s supposed to be the ‘most wonderful time of the year’.

2. You get caught in the trap of Keeping up with the Joneses and posting everything you’ve got going on in misguided retaliation to prove you have the biggest and shiniest Christmas on Instagram.

By the way, I’m not exempt from committing either of the above IG sins (I’m only human, after all), and to be honest, getting caught up in that cycle every year makes me feel even ickier than the last.

Anyway, I cut the digital cord and avoided doing it for the ‘Gram. I barely shared anything about myself on Instagram and alluded to how this mini-break made me feel in my first VeloMail of 2024:

“I was much more private about Christmas this time around. Instead of the usual flood of photos across Instagram, I stayed mainly off-grid, shut the doors to the world, and went at the festivities with gusto! I took LOTS of photos for my own records and just enjoyed two weeks with close family, making memories”.

Taken from Undecking the Halls for a New Year! - published 5th January 2024

It felt great. That break from the Grid might have been the significant eye-opener as to how bad my InstaFatigue was, but this weariness for Instagram has been hanging over me for much longer than that. 

My disconnection from Instagram began in March 2022, when COVID-19 finally caught me. Holed up in solitary confinement in my living room for ten days (and the primary way I communicated with Ian and Mamma Vélo was shouting at them from the other side of a closed door), I had only my iPhone, laptop and the internet as a connection to the outside world.

Those ten days were the first time I’d spent such an excessive amount of time with my phone. Around six days into my solitary confinement, I realised the novelty of switching off Airplane Mode when I woke up in the morning and got all the notifications (or the ‘Pings of Approval’) that had built up overnight had worn off. That peculiar daily dose of instant gratification was soon replaced with endless trips down a scroll-hole and what genuinely felt like the inability to stop myself from doing it. 

I couldn’t even break the chain with some exciting (whatever that means) content. I didn’t have anything I thought was worth sharing with my followers on Instagram. What would I be posting? A flurry of photos and stories of a snot-riddled, coughing and sneezing Jools, locked away in her living room? Of course not! A combination of my vanity not allowing me to post such content and realising not everything needs to be on the ‘Gram put paid to that.

Eventually, my attention turned to the state of my Instagram page. 2022 was my eleventh year on that platform, and I had thousands of pictures to show for it. With nothing but time on my hands, I scrolled back to the date I joined Instagram, February 2011 (it’s a slow nightmare to go that far back on your account), scrutinising everything I’d ever posted. 

Aside from being a bittersweet trip down memory lane with sadness for some lost connections (something I still mourn), I was utterly baffled by some of the stuff I’d shared:

“Why have I posted all these photos of my young nephews?”

“Does Mamma Vélo really want her hospital visits splashed all over the internet?”

“Who cares about that Byron Burger PR event I attended over a decade ago?” 

That period of convalescence brought some unexpected clarity. I removed thousands of personal and questionable photos I didn’t want to share anymore. I reduced my page to about a hundred pictures and convinced myself I was still cool with being on Instagram. The clean-out felt good, but it was far from the solution. The pressure to keep up appearances spurred me to stay on the app despite knowing it was making me miserable.

Even though my mental health benefited from being away from it, I felt obliged to return to Instagram this month.

You know… because FOMO was preying on my mind.

I had the Fear Of Missing Out On Freelance Work - although ‘FOMOOFW’ doesn’t quite roll off the tongue and sounds more like a cow in distress. Once upon a time, Instagram was a place where I could rely on landing clients and freelance work. Using it as a marketing tool was the most effective shop window for my work. I may not have Kardashian-level followers, but I could tout my talents on Instagram and have a much better chance of landing gigs and potential partnerships via that platform than any other. 

Remembering what a huge boon Instagram was to promote my first book had me clinging to faith in the platform. It was an invaluable resource for getting the word out about Back in the Frame - especially after my agent forewarned me that the bulk of promotion would fall on my shoulders despite having the assistance of a ‘Big Five’ PR department.

I was thankful that I didn’t have to hand over my social media accounts to anyone else to run; I knew my audience and, at the time, what worked to connect with people authentically. 

Anyway - as my diary has been excruciatingly empty for the last few months (I think I’m in my ‘freelance flop’ era), my gut instinct was to get back on Instagram and put myself out there.

In what I thought was a short time to be off the ‘Gram (it seems like a month off might as well be ten years), the rules of engagement had changed - quite literally. Upon my return, nothing I posted was landing, and my reach was through the floor. Instead of remaining chill and enjoying using Instagram again, I became fixated on figures and how to improve what had gone wrong in my time off the app.

All of the peace I’d achieved in my absence from social media was wiped away the moment I tapped on ‘Insights’. I got caught up in The Metrics, and it felt rather shit.

When Instagram ushered in the era of gamification, especially with the introduction of Meta Verified (I 100% stand by this belief), everything changed.

I’ve talked about doing the “dance of the blue tick” before - and it’s still not for me. I can’t justify paying monthly for verification (I’m howling at the idea of doing this while my freelance finances are in freefall) when it feels like Instagram as a platform has stalled for me in more ways than one and my relationship with it is on the wane.

I suppose there are other ways to get traction if Meta Verified is out of the question - like adding a piece of trending music to a photo (it always comes as a jarring surprise when a still photo suddenly starts blaring music) or making those ‘click-your-fingers-transition’ Reels in the hope of more eyes on my grid. When I tried making those, I just came off feeling and looking like an awkward, unconvincing tit. I harbour no ill will for that content or the creators who do it really well - it’s just not me.

I joke that I’m probably too old for Instagram now and a Luddite who won't move with the times of social media. But I can’t help missing what Instagram once was. Algorithms came along and changed—or, to be blunt, ruined—what the platform used to be, and not just for work purposes.

I mourn the loss of the connections I once made on Instagram, but the blame for this happening could also be dumped at my feet; because I no longer post on there as much as I used to, the algorithm then decides not to show me accounts… no scratch that - people I’m interested in interacting with. 

But that begs the question: why am I relying so hard on social media to interact with people… and wracking my brains over this?!

This brings me back to why I took time off Instagram in the first place.

The pressure to post everything in an effort to get hundreds of virtual pats on the back from strangers is exhausting. Trying to live up to an overly fantasised version of myself, based on competing with other people on the platform who appear to have ‘perfect’ lives, is not living my best life in any way, shape, or form.

It’s wild that a place which once brought me happiness now feeds into my anxiety, stress and depression. Instagram is a costly platform these days, and I don’t just mean paying monthly for that once-coveted blue checkmark. The emotional price you pay while feeling obliged to document your whole existence—like you’re constantly living online—is far too high.

In December, I took that time out not just to live off the Grid and make memories without having to share them in multiple 1:1 squares; I was able to reflect on how out of whack my social media consumption was. When I returned to Instagram earlier this month and almost immediately got lost in an irrational panic about reach and engagement, it hit me just how unhealthy it had all become.

Over the past thirteen years, I’ve lived much of my life online. I’ve done it for pleasure (a feeling which has almost completely vanished) and, of course, for lots of external validation. I don’t want to post that much on Instagram anymore, and coming to terms with that led to the extreme spring clean I carried out on my account. The tidy-up is a half-farewell to Instagram; the account is still active (although I’m pretty much done with DM’s - anyone who wants to find me and knows how to beyond Instagram can). I’ll be sticking to using Stories above anything else. At some point, I’ll return to posting on the Grid, but I will be using it in a much different and, hopefully, healthier manner.

A Note that popped up on my home page (at last, an Explore feed that serves me valuable and relevant content!) by

Amanda B. Hinton

gave me food for thought on how to manage my relationship and any expectations of Instagram:

“It turns out I don’t wholly loathe instagram if I treat it as an epilogue to a longform story I’ve written elsewhere”.

As I rekindle my love for writing, I remind myself that photos are a massive part of the storytelling I enjoy. So, instead of remaining irked about the old-school visual origins of Instagram being dead (and still feeling disappointed that a book idea I pitched in 2019 built on old family photos was rejected for really frustrating reasons), I can share my stories—both written and visual—on VeloMail and use Instagram as a supplement.

I’m more than happy to remain in social media hibernation for the remainder of January until the time is right for me to return. Those pings of approval can remain permanently in silent mode.

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Buy my book: Back in the Frame: Cycling, belonging and finding joy on a bike.

Find and follow me on Instagram (I’m mainly on Stories) and Threads.