Owning A Small Business & Leaving Instagram

Leaving Instagram was slow and arduous, like building up mileage in preparation for a long-distance race. Reliance on these platforms is gradual, and addiction is unsuspecting. I think I needed those things in reverse. It was a process. I couldn't just do it all at once, impulsively on a whim and hope for the best. Instead, I logged off for six months at at time every couple of years. Then for months I contemplated leaving altogether. In that time I reflected on my attachment to Instagram. I unfollowed hundreds of people and deleted old posts little by little. But then I came back for more.

As I wrestled with the idea of leaving I still logged on almost every day, but at least I did so hyperaware. I wanted to learn what it was I was hoping to gain or find. Did I even need to be on for my business? Was it the unknown that hooked me? Were there certain people's lives I was hoping to see? Or was a merely hoping to be entertained by yet another chicken video? Why did it feel so good? Why did it feel so bad? Why couldn't I let go? And why did being there feel so against everything that I am and want to be?

Finding Validation from Off the Grid

I had a lot of questions and I wasn't feeling good about my relationship with Instagram, so I started looking for validation on what I was thinking and feeling. On a whim I started searching for a podcast, thinking maybe someone somewhere out there understood my struggle. That's when I stumbled upon Off the Grid: A podcast for creative small business owners who want to leave social media without losing all their income.

As I binged on episodes, I started not only to feel seen in my desire to leave but also in my desire to stay. I felt inspired by stories of business owners leaving social media and less alone.

I also started to understand part of why it felt wrong to be on Instagram "just for my business." There was a quote that came up in one of the episodes that stuck with me: "I don't want to perform my job. I want to be rooted in my work." Social media is all about performance. And when you mix that with a creative passion, it can start to be a little bit like selling the soul of your work to the devil.

Admitting I Don't Need Instagram to Be Successful in My Business

That was the lie I told myself for years: I have a photography business. I have to be on Instagram. I mean, I'd deleted my personal account years ago. I'd only returned because I'd had to of course. But slowly, every so slowly business and personal started to blend. While my posts consisted of recent work, my stories were mostly personal. Because I'm a personal brand, right? People will want to know who they're hiring! Maybe partly true, but my motives were more about being seen on a personal level than gaining visibility for my business. It was almost like I was using my business as an excuse to participate in something I knew deep down I didn't align with.

While I liked the impression of connection and the feeling of being seen, maybe only a few hundred people would see my stuff. A client would trickle in from Instagram here and there, but I wasn't reliant on it. Most people found me on Google. Even though I assured myself that my business would suffer if I wasn't on Instagram, getting paid wasn't the primary reason I was there.

That's the thing, relationship building isn't the same as audience building. I have a great audience through my newsletter, and I have a very successful website. I didn't need Instagram to be successful. I needed Instagram for validation.

And when I took the time to scan who saw my content, I realized I felt pretty strongly that some people who followed me didn't even deserve to see details about my life, like old neighbors I never had any genuine real life connection with and acquaintances I hadn't talked to since middle school. Yes, I think I just wanted to be seen, but sometimes I was uncomfortable with who was peeking through the window. I also wanted people to connect with me not just out of convenience. I wanted people to see me because they cared, not just because they had access to a window.

Understanding What it Means to Be Seen

Being seen is "a state of feeling recognized through validation, support, inclusion, or representation of one's identity, needs, emotions, and or physical presence. It can also be described as a feeling of deep connection or being present that can lead to trust. Feeling seen is similar to feeling heard, but feeling seen is more about identity while feeling heard prioritizes the message. Some ways to make people feel seen include practicing active listening, being fully present, reflecting on what you hear, validating feelings, showing empathy, telling someone how much you value them, and telling someone you love them for everything they are." (quoted from an Off the Grid episode, an AI overview)

I really enjoyed sharing updates on Instagram. My family and friends circle is quite small, so it felt exciting to share news with a larger audience.

What Does Feeling Seen on Instagram Mean to Me?

Making a post, likes or comments, views of stories, and replies to stories all made me feel seen. I also felt seen by another person's post someone with similar values or interests. I liked feeling seen by hearing from other people that share similar views as me, like my thoughts on alcohol. But the flip is true. I felt unseen on Instagram when everything seemed to be so much better and/or different than what I am and what I have.

Feeling seen (connection) gets replaced with being seen (visibility) on social media. I was slowly coming to understand that ways in which I wanted to be "seen" on Instagram weren't wholesome. I wanted old connections to see me doing well, almost to prove something...It was an insecurity, a defense mechanism, and it wasn't healthy.

What Does Feeling Seen Off Social Media Mean to Me?

It was helpful for me to begin to understand what parts of myself I wish were seen (and to remember that I'm never going to be perfectly seen except by God alone). I long to connect with women to value strength training. I long for deeper connection in a church setting. I long to connect with women in my own town. I long to be understood in the choices I'm making in where to live, where to go to church, and how to raise kids.

There were random joys that I enjoyed sharing, like moments from vacations, our ducks, and pieces of nature. Sometimes the act of sharing seemed to increase the joy. Other times, it took away from the actual experience.

I started asking myself, can I lean into those who do see me in those ways? Can I find non-hierarchical online communities that support those choices? Can I share in other ways? One of the ways I loved feeling seen on Instagram was when people validated my writing. I loved when people commented on "my way with words." I remembered that I could share those writings on my blog. There are no rules here. I don't care if most photographers only write posts about photo specific things. I can share about other things if I want to. But more so, can I also focus more on seeing others than being seen myself?

"Artists are people driven by the tension between the desire to communicate and the desire to hide. It is a joy to be hidden, and disaster not to be found." (DW Winnocott)

Not Immune to the Compare & Despair Trap

Comparison wasn't an issue for me when it came to seeing random good-looking people working out or some homestead with epic decor and a never-ending supply of sour dough. No, comparison slowly suffocated when I was comparing my appearance to people I knew in real life and my life to the highlight reels of friends I hadn't intentionally connected with in a while. How does she always look that good? (She doesn't.) Is your life never hard? (It is. Remember how you were hit by a semi-truck and didn't post about it?) Why did she post a photo of her time with them and not with me? (I knew too much. I was never meant to know what all my connections were doing all the time.)

Realizing I'm the Product

It's no secret that just about everyone out there is trying to sell you something. But Instagram seemed to be crossing a line. Through podcasts, research, and observation I started to see how uniquely targeted I was. At the height of it I learned that the algorithm was able to piece together when I was about to get my period based on the reels I lingered on and then tailor the ads to whatever state of mind I was in. While I didn't usually buy from these ads, sometimes I clicked, and I hated knowing that I could be manipulated so intensely and so much could be known about me without my conscience consent (even though I was consenting just by being on the platform).

There were plenty of reasons Instagram wasn't healthy. I was falling into comparison. I was being sold to all the time. My attention was being hijacked. Why was I still wondering if I should stay?

Writing Down What I Valued

The first exercise that helped me sort out if I even really wanted to leave was writing down who I was and what I valued:

I'm not the kind of person to invest so much time, energy, and money on my appearance and then only showing the amazing, perfectly curated photos. When I looked through someone's feed, I saw a self-obsessed woman who put a lot of emphasis on how they look. All photos included heavy eye makeup and perfectly planned outfits. I saw someone who put a lot of energy into how they appeared online. I saw someone who was completely obsessed with herself, and it was worth acknowledging that while I crave validation and attention, I don't want to be obsessed with myself.

I don't need false validation and affirmation because I have truly seen by God. I am secure in my relationship with God and what he has to say about me.

I'm not the kind of person to share photos of my kids just to get a hit. It feels like I'm using them.

I value investing time in learning about God, reading to grow, reading for fun, quality time with my family, exercising to feel good, and contributing to the family. I enjoy spending time on these things and don't want to waste it on my phone.

I don't want to support something that ruins so many people. I don't want to be influenced.

I'm not the kind of person who looks to addictive behaviors and temporary highs to make me feel better. (I quit drinking almost three years ago!) It takes courage to leave, and I felt I had that courage. I'd given up other things before and been better off for it.

Making a List of People Who Aren't On Instagram

It was oddly satisfying to learn that Scarlett Johansson isn't on Instagram. I'd found she'd made some comment about her being too fragile to be there, and I felt seen in that. My husband and mom don't have Facebook or Instagram. There's one woman from my church a little older than me who isn't on Instagram. And it was helpful to remember that those I respect most aren't very active on social media, even if they have an account. My favorite people hardly ever post or share anything online.

Recognizing What I'd Miss

I also had to come to terms with the fact that it was okay to have mixed feelings about leaving Instagram. There were a couple of people who I realized I'd miss seeing what they were up to. But with those people there was something hindering real life connection: Discomfort with feeling vulnerable in sending a text? Wishing I was closer to extended family members but wasn't willing to put myself out there? So I made a list of people I would actually like to be connected to in real life, and I challenged myself to slowly reach out to those people.

I knew I'd miss feeling like I'm hanging out with everyone, and I'd miss the beauty of the grid I'd made and the work that had gone into creating posts paired with the right words. But the pain of staying greatly outweighed the pain of leaving.

Owning a Small Business & Finally Leaving Instagram

Part of the "final straw urge" to leave Instagram was actually rooted in loneliness (and maybe a bit of cynicism). I feared feeling more lonely and disconnected if I left, and yet I was maddened by the posts, everyone so disgustingly focused on themselves and their own desires to be seen. I was mad because it seemed like no one was there to give and because I wasn't truly connected with anyone there anyway. It served as a painful reminder of the people I wish I still had a genuine connection with but didn't or people who I longed to be closer to but wasn't. Ultimately, finally pulling the plug was me acknowledging my own loneliness, rejecting counterfeit connection and self-obsession, and realizing that owning a small business and leaving Instagram can go together.

Finally, I made a point of saving all my writing and making a (short) list of people I'd like to reach out to. I made a note to update my business cards, removed social media links on my website, changed my email signature, and...left. I didn't feel like I owed anyone any kind of explanation, but I did add it to my list to include an announcement about it in my newsletter.

Now What?

When I stopped drinking alcohol years ago, I had a very similar experience. I didn't stop drinking because I had a terrible, soul-crushing problem. I stopped because I believed there was something better out there. The same is true for my relationships, how I spend my free time, and what I worry and think about. There's something much better beyond Instagram. Moving forward, listening to like-minded people (through a podcast or wherever), finding other ways to share (like in a newsletter or blog), and strengthening my connections is going to be really important. While I'm scared for the change, I look forward to embracing the discomfort as I learn to live more aligned with my values.