A thousand followers, endless pictures, and the constant pressure to curate the perfect life—yep, that was my reality when I was deep into the Instagram game. It became almost obsessive. Everywhere I went, every cute café I visited, or every sunset I saw, I made sure I captured the moment. It felt like Instagram was my entire life.

I remember when I was 17 and went on a city trip to Barcelona with my mom. That’s when it hit me how annoying I’d become. I was asking her to take picture after picture of me in front of every sunny street corner, every fancy building. I realized how much my behavior was turning this trip into a photoshoot rather than an actual experience. My photo gallery? Just.. me. A gazillion pictures of me. It was honestly embarrassing.

But wait, it gets better. The worst part wasn’t even the photos, it was the anxiety I had whenever I posted them. I’d feel that rush of excitement when the likes and comments started rolling in, but if I didn’t get enough? Poof. The post was gone. Bye, bye, self-esteem. And this whole cycle of craving external approval? Yeah, it was a little toxic.

I was showing only the parts of my life I wanted the world to see—carefully curated moments that would make my life seem amazing, cool, and worthy of admiration. The likes and comments fed my ego, and I lived for that external validation. But it wasn’t until that trip in Barcelona that I realized how fake it all was. If only people could see the truth behind every snap—trust me, it was far from cool.

The more I reflected, the more I realized that Instagram was doing me more harm than good. Friends around me were also struggling. They’d scroll through and feel the FOMO creeping in—comparing their lives to what they saw online. Sure, there are some good things about Instagram. It’s fun to see what friends are up to, or get inspired by cool accounts. But my brother hit the nail on the head when he said, “Isn’t it weird that we care so much about what other people are doing at all times? I honestly don’t care about most people’s lives.” And you know what? He’s right. The people who really matter will talk to you or hang out with you anyway. Why waste energy looking at strangers’ meals, outfits, and vacations?

I found myself at a crossroads: craving that external validation, but realizing that most of the people I was comparing myself to didn’t even matter in the grand scheme of things, anyways. When I turned 18, a friend dared me to deactivate my account for a week to see how I felt. Honestly, it was weird at first. I kept reaching for my phone, only to remember: no Instagram. My screen time dropped dramatically, and for the first couple of days, I was feeling… well, a bit empty.

But by the end of that week? I was sold. I felt more present, more happy with what I was doing in the moment without the need to capture it for the world. So, I made the decision to permanently delete Instagram. It’s been nearly 8 years, and I honestly don’t miss it for a hot second.

Now, when people ask for my Instagram and I tell them I don’t have it, they’re usually like, “Oh… really? That’s impressive.” Or, “I should delete it too.” And hey, I’m not saying you have to do it, but if you’re struggling with your own relationship with social media, I definitely recommend going off the grid for a week to see how it makes you feel.

So, let me ask you: how do you make sure you have a healthy relationship with the online world? 🌍📱