To delete, or not to delete? That is the question.
I had toyed around with the idea of deleting my Instagram account for a long time now, but I could never quite push myself to get on with it. I could go on social media "cleanses" by occasionally and temporarily deleting the app off my phone, or logging myself out to make it more of a deal to have to log in each time; both futile attempts at keeping myself off the app.
But, this morning I was done. I pulled myself together, said "screw it", and hit the delete button.
So it's over, I'm no longer on Instagram, and as much as I'd like to think the world of Instagram will miss my presence, I realized, no one really cares. Even if they did, it would only be for one sympathetic "like" before they moved on with their life... and that's okay! I guess if you dwell on it, it's kinda sad, but that's the reality of social media and I'm fine with it! Plus, that's the reason I deleted my account anyways; life is so so so much more than gratification through likes and comments and tags.
For the longest time I kept pushing off deleting my account because of all the "what-ifs" going on in my head.
"What if after I delete my account, someone else takes my username and I'll loose it forever?"
"What if I ever want to use my account for professional matters?"
"What if one day I start taking better photos and I'll have no where to post them?"
"What if someone has a photo of me and can't tag me?"
All of these really silly, pointless excuses that were far less important than all the negative effects of the app.
For me, Instagram wasn't an issue for the longest time, until I realized that it was. I figured that I followed enough accounts of food and brands and "inspirational"people to just give myself something pleasant to look at like Pinterest. But, it's not Pinterest.
 Instagram is a social media platform and most likely that means you probably follow your friends or not-so-friends friends. Then you see lots of pictures of their lives and you feel required to do the same with yours, showing the same amount of perfection or trendy "imperfection" to match. Then it's totally socially inappropriate to not follow your closest friends even if you know looking at their photos makes you feel super self conscious about your own boring life, or maybe! their photos really aren't all that interesting. It's a vicious cycle.
To back this up with some super fun research, "The UK's Royal Society for Public Health recently published a new study on social media sites and Instagram was found to be the most detrimental to a young person's mental health" reports CNN. Is that even surprising? It was just enough to confirm that I wasn't crazy that Instagram wasn't making me all the warm fuzzies all the time.
Now I'm not totally condoning social media or even Instagram because I think there are many cases where Instagram is a great platform for self expression and self-identity, or even for business purposes, but the role it was playing in my life wasn't a good one. I looked back at all my posts and thought "what was I thinking?", this is so fake.
I know no one really wants to admit it, but it's not real.
At least when I posted Instagram photos they were curated snapshots from my life, the best parts of my day, what I wanted other people to see. When you put a bunch of that together, you get a big highlights reel filled with cryptic captions and artsy quotes. Looking back to moments before I deleted my account, I really hated that I did that. I loved the instant gratification of a little pink heart popping up. I loved knowing that people were seeing that I was doing something interesting, or not interesting!
I guess the big question I asked myself was "why?"
I know not everything needs to have a purpose, so I guess the better question I asked was, "does being on Instagram improve my life in any way?" The short and hard answer was "no".
What did I get from Instagram? Nothing. Nothing compared to the true gratification I get from keeping my face out of my phone and looking around at the world around me.
 Being aware, being really alive. I can truly enjoy a good time with my friends without having to worry if I was tagged in a picture, or if the pictures that were taken or me were flattering or not. When I commute around, I don't have the nervous habit of mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, not only blocking out everything around me, but dropping my self-esteem at the same time. I can watch the weird guy on the subway blast Cyndi Lauper's "Holiday" from his portable speaker. I can daydream. I can read an amazing book. I can people watch and see the beauty of human connection.
 I don't worry about missing out anymore, at least it isn't a big flag waving in my face every time I see a group picture from that event I wasn't invited to. I kicked Snapchat's bucket a long time ago because that wasn't good for me either. So it was time.
There's something so sad about looking at a picture and feeling bad about yourself. Where you are. Or the path you are taking in life. I would hate for anyone, especially a young person still figuring out social media and self image and worth to feel that way, because I know how empty that feeling is.
It's not fun. It wasn't anymore, so I left.
 - ML