I Quit Instagram for a Year.
A year is enough to improve your life.
I never liked Instagram.
For the last decade since I first logged in, something always felt off, but I couldn’t tell what.
It’s like walking with a small pebble in your shoe or trying to get comfortable on a lumpy mattress.
You can live with that discomfort, but it doesn’t necessarily make your life more enjoyable.
The decision to quit Instagram came after long considerations, though.
Before entirely leaving, I took several ‘detox’ breaks, as we are recommended to do.
And with each subsequent break, coming back became more frustrating.
It felt like being pulled back into a vortex.
Even though I initially managed to control how much time I spent scrolling and what thoughts it sparked, I quickly slipped back into my old ways.
What kept me logged in is that I tried using the platform “for business” — to build my personal brand.
It did bring some opportunities and sparked interesting conversations, but it wasn’t enough to offset the negative effects. I enjoy sharing and creating in a community, but IG wasn’t a good place for my mind (and for my message either, I think).
I miss sharing bits of life with friends and forging new connections, but if I’m being honest, I don’t see myself going back unless I have a good enough reason to do so.
The Instagram-free road has been less glamorous but more fulfilling.
And there were some gains I didn’t even see coming.
Observations:
Here’s a quick overview of how my life improved in a year without Instagram.
Although I obviously didn’t only delete the app and sit around doing nothing, most of these changes resulted from distancing myself from the platform.
- My attention span improved drastically (to be fair, this is likely also boosted by my daily meditation practice). Before, I had trouble focusing on a single paragraph while reading a book. Now I can read for a full hour, rarely getting distracted.
- My memory improved. It’s easier for me to backtrack conversations, thoughts, and events. I also remember my dreams again (but that’s only after a year since I quit IG!).
- I feel better about myself and my life. I still compare myself with others, more than I’d like, but the volume of it is incomparably lower than before.
- I take fewer photos, and when I do, it’s for myself because I want it, not because I feel pressured to have something to post on IG.
- I got pretty bad at taking selfies, and I have 80% fewer pics of myself (because I don’t think of how I look that much, I’m relatively less self-conscious and simply don’t need them).
- It’s easier to be a minimalist. You just don’t have so much exposure to people showing things that you don’t need (and that they don’t need either), making it look like without them, you’re worse. Whether you buy into this narrative or not, life’s better without it.
- It’s easier to trust the process and attune to it when you’re not broadcasting your life online. There’s more room to make mistakes, learn, course-correct, change your mind, and basically live as life goes without the pressure to present yourself a certain way and maintain that image.
- I have much more time to do things that matter to me. Instead of scrolling, I meditate for one hour in the morning and evening, read books, play with my dog, have conversations with friends and family IRL, go for a walk, or just sit and let myself be. Suddenly, I have time to do all these things, and life feels fuller. Before, I’d just scroll.
- I’m not wasting time. Okay, maybe I still do, but I no longer catch myself with the phone in my hand, realising an hour had passed and I was supposed to do something else instead of staring at that little screen.
- I’m more present for myself, my boyfriend, my dog, loved ones, and strangers on the streets.
- My emotions are more balanced, and so is my mind.
- Life feels more doable.
- I know myself better.
It is the readiness of the mind that is wisdom
There’s a book that has been with me since I was a kid. I grew up with it as if it was part of the family.
At 13, I even cancelled a date with a boy just to continue reading it.
To this day, I still pick it up and read a random page, and it feels like coming home.
In this book, there’s a line that resurfaced in my mind while I was piecing together thoughts for this article.
And while the original context isn’t about social media or even media in general, I still found it surprisingly suitable.
“There are no dead languages, only dormant minds.”
It’s a simple yet powerful thought.
Knowledge and curiosity are not inherently limited. It is our lack of engagement and exploration that holds us back.
Sometimes, like with social media, we get stuck in a loop, and our brains switch off. Instead of exploring and learning, we end up scrolling and numbing the beautiful potential of our minds.
Bertrand Russell puts it another way: “The world is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.”
And if you want something punchier, Albert Einstein said simply:
“Once you stop learning, you start dying.”
I think the mind needs to be constantly sharpened to be of service to others and the world.
“It is the readiness of the mind that is wisdom.”
As Shunryu Suzuki said.
Without that, the mind not only stops being helpful, but it turns against us.
A dormant mind isn’t ready to process more complex and nuanced information. It limits our perspective.
Out of convenience, we begin to focus too much on the little bubble we live in.
We forget the world around us.
Unable to place our lives in a broader context, we become depressed or anxious.
And drown in the sea of external stimuli, we lose ourselves.
You need to be able to focus to dive deep
Wisdom is not only about having eloquent conversations, reading difficult books, or operating through life with seeming expertise.
Wisdom is the knowledge of self.
Instagram, has been known to have a significant impact on our attention spans. With its visually appealing and easily digestible content, it encourages quick scrolling and rapid consumption of information.
The constant stream of dopamine-boosting photos, videos, and stories can easily distract us, making it challenging to concentrate on a single task or engage in deep, sustained thinking.
As we habitually scroll through endless feeds, our focus becomes fragmented and fleeting, resulting in shortened attention spans and reduced ability to concentrate for extended periods.
You know that moment when you’re working, studying, or reading, and after a short while, you feel a distracting urge pulling your mind away from the task? You can’t focus anymore. Your brain resists being put back to work. It craves dopamine.
“Every time you impulsively reach for your phone to get a dose of dopamine, you weaken your brain’s ability to concentrate,” Alan Scarpa wrote in his article.
If we are not able to focus, we are not able to learn. And if we are not learning, then we know what’s left for us.
How can we expect our brains to process complex information and draw useful conclusions if we struggle to maintain attention while doing a simple task?
I don’t think we live in times when we can afford to be mentally lazy. Our minds need to be prepared for the multitude of challenges we face. Independent thinking is essential in the age of mass disinformation, and for that, we require stable minds.
However, our actions merely reflect what’s happening internally. The restlessness of our minds doesn’t impact our behaviour the most.
There is one activity that absolutely demands a long attention span.
It’s self-exploration.
Before prioritising my mental hygiene, I noticed that a shorter attention span led to increased frustration even in minor situations. When things didn’t go as planned and required additional time to resolve, I would quickly become angry, failing to reflect on the underlying reasons for my reaction.
If it’s an isolated incident, it might not be a big deal. But when this becomes our default way to live, it greatly affects our roles as partners, parents, sons, or daughters. If our minds are restless and scattered, we won’t even be able to reflect on that fact.
You need to be able to focus to dive deep.
Our short attention spans make effective introspection nearly impossible.
And as many philosophers, spiritual guides, and leaders have said, “Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom” (Aristotle), so introspection may be the single most important skill we develop in our lifetime.
With that in mind, quitting Instagram was a simple calculation.
Months after logging off, I started noticing a resurgence in my attention span. It took a long time for my focus to recover.
Previously, I struggled to stay focused on a book without getting constantly distracted and losing track of the narrative. It took me a while to realise I had damaged my ability to concentrate through the seemingly harmless scroll.
A year later, I can finally read for hours without my mind wandering and getting starved for dopamine. It makes it easier to delve into the depths of a book, reassess my thoughts and actions, and actively engage in conversations.
My mind is reclaiming its readiness.
It’s not only about improving focus, though.
Instagram feeds us selectively with only specific types of content. Algorithms quickly learn what we like and will give us only this.
If anything hampers our mental readiness most rapidly, it’s the lack of exposure to diverse perspectives.
One reason I hesitated to quit Instagram was the belief I was learning by using it.
I followed accounts that shared valuable content, including writers, activists, and artists.
And while my general level of “staying up to date” was undoubtedly rising, so was the general level of noise in my mind.
Social media platforms, such as Instagram, often bombard users with a large volume of information at a rapid pace.
This can contribute to what is known as Information Overload.
It hampers memory retention and understanding because the brain doesn’t have sufficient time to process and internalise the information.
Information overload also makes it easier to spread misinformation, impairing our ability for critical thinking.
You know there’s this advice: if your mental health suffers from social media, you should simply unfollow people who trigger you negatively, and you’ll be fine.
That’s what I did.
But the thing is, even if your whole feed is curated as much you-friendly as possible, it is still a massive wave of noise.
As sort of a creator myself, I initially thought my posts were helpful. Every now and then, I’d get a message from someone saying what I wrote helped them, and it would make me hesitate to leave Instagram even more.
But then I started observing my mind after reading inspirational posts or watching reels with advice.
In the moment of interaction, I felt good and uplifted. But the next day? An hour later? Five minutes after I swiped through tens of other posts?
Nothing.
Or just a vague sense of understanding at best.
This phenomenon is known as the Illusion of Knowledge in social media.
We think we are getting something valuable out of it because, by all means, it feels and looks like it.
But it is often not the case.
The issue doesn’t necessarily lie in the content — some people put a lot of work and thought into what they share.
The problem is in the platform itself.
The best way to truly benefit from helpful posts on Instagram is to put your phone down the moment you see one of them and enact the advice immediately without further distracting your mind.
Alternatively, you could follow one account only, thoroughly reading their posts, and osmose their impact with time.
It sounds ridiculous, though. We won’t do either of these. And it’s not our fault.
If we scroll, we scroll without an end in mind. If we follow, we follow hundreds, if not thousands, of accounts.
It’s how the platform is designed to work.
Even if some positive influence gets through to us, it is inevitably wrapped in the layer of noise and distractions from other accounts (which, tbf might be valuable too, but altogether distribute way more information than our brains can digest).
That creates overstimulation.
And that’s what deprives us of the skill of critical thinking.
I realised that if I can’t get any long-lasting positive effect from reading other people’s posts, then my writing on Instagram only adds to the noise — even if some people said it helps.
I’ll sound like an old lady for a moment.
We live in an era of mass information, where almost everyone gives advice to others on how to live, what they should do, and what they should not.
We shove it all up to our poor minds, and then we yell “Dance!” when they lay down on the floor too full to move a finger (or a nerve).
We never make room just to sit and think. We don’t give ourselves a chance to digest all that information we just inhaled.
When the number of inputs exceeds a system’s processing capability, it will inevitably shut down.
And that’s exactly what our brains do.
Depression, anxiety, anger issues, compulsive disorders — they all come because we don’t make room to process our thoughts and emotions. We push them all down and down to make room for more redundant information that we suck in every-single-day — often before we take a bite of our breakfast. And then we wonder why we’re unwell.
Information Diet
The biggest advantage and, at the same time, the problem of the Internet era is the omnipresence of information and stimuli.
We live in the illusion of being “informed” and “knowledgeable” while our attention spans are constantly shrinking, and in consequence, our ability for self-reflection suffers.
It’s nearly impossible to allow oneself time to put newly acquired knowledge into steady, mindful practice when there’s so much knowledge to be yet digested, so many articles to read, and the never-ending feed to scroll through.
When we scroll through the feed or stories (not to mention reels; they should be banned), we get the illusion of learning without actually understanding or retaining the information.
Our minds don’t have enough exposure to the information we are watching.
The fast pace of scrolling and the overwhelming amount of information hinder deep processing, which is crucial for genuine learning and critical thinking.
If the information is unprocessed, it doesn’t magically evaporate. It is stored by our brains and ends up adding noise to our already overstimulated systems.
The longer the exposure to a particular topic, on the other hand, the more able we are to think about it critically and not just mindlessly absorb whatever we are served.
But that is just not possible on most social media platforms.
Engaging in critical thinking requires focused attention and cognitive effort. It is the ability to deeply process information and connect multiple dots into a clear picture.
Social media platforms are designed to be attention-grabbing, making our minds jump from one topic to another. In such an environment, we are unable to sustain a cohesive line of thought and reflection.
While it’s possible to pause and contemplate certain types of media (again, not the reels), it requires significant self-discipline.
Most of us scroll to unwind, numb our emotions, or distract our thoughts.
Not to exercise critical thinking.
And if we don’t do our thinking, someone else will do it for us.
I started to see my mind the way I see my body. The food I eat affects my health. Similarly, what I feed my mind shapes my thoughts and emotions.
And if I overfeed it, it will get sick.
Yuval Noah Harari, a world-renown historian and author, calls this approach an “an information diet”.
Harari keeps his own phone switched off, in a drawer. He calls it ‘an emergency smartphone’ for when he travels abroad. He does it to avoid the distracting flood of information pouring into his brain from a little screen.
We don’t need to change the world with our brains to respect them.
It’s enough if we start by changing our lives for the better.
The Self vs Selfies
Lastly, being on Instagram naturally amplifies our focus on external appearances and all things visual. For me, this was particularly disturbing. I had become too fixated on my looks, primarily due to my background in modeling.
Taking care of oneself is important, but the obsession with appearances should not overshadow everything else.
This unhealthy focus made me question what truly matters in life. I could no longer ignore the feeling that it distracts me from what I believe is genuinely essential to me, what lies beneath the surface, and what I want to delve into.
I want to focus less on physical appearance as a value in itself. If I am to “look good,” I want it to stem from my health and caring for my body as my home here rather than letting appearance be my primary goal.
The cult of beauty on Instagram prevents me from gaining this perspective because establishing it requires a healthy distance, which, in this case, excludes further use of this platform.
It’s not only about being “beautiful” (which we all are and aren’t at the same time; there’s no such thing as ultimate beauty). It is about being “insta beautiful”, and that, I think, is immensely harmful.
In the pursuit of this standard, our egos grow out of proportion.
Whenever I went on Instagram to answer a few DMs over the past year, I could sense my ego being triggered. It was possible for me to observe it, instead of giving in to it because I allowed myself to experience what it feels like when I don’t feed that part of my self.
It shrinks. It doesn’t bother me as much. It no longer pushes me toward the things I, deep down, know I don’t want to be doing or thinking.
And if it doesn’t come in the way, I’m more free to focus on the things that are worth spending my life on.
There are about a trillion things more important to do with our limited time on this Earth than perfecting appearances to embody unrealistic beauty standards. Like building stronger relationships with those you love. Or furthering your education. Or pursuing what seems to be an impossible dream. Or helping others.
— Erica McDonald
Closing
I won’t tell you to delete Instagram.
You do you, as we all do.
Social media serves different purposes for different people.
But if you ever find yourself feeling overwhelmed, restless, or disconnected, maybe it’s time to evaluate the role it plays in your life.
Weigh the pros and cons.
I want you to be at least aware of what it does to you. Make a conscious decision, don’t let it (or others) decide for you.
Sometimes, a little distance can make a world of difference.
It’s your life, and you have the power to choose how you want to live it.
Even if everyone else does a thing, it doesn’t mean it’s good for you — or them. Perhaps “the norm” isn’t that normal, after all.
Before you go
I’m Justyna Cyrankiewicz, and I write about simple things that make overcomplicated minds.
If you enjoyed this piece, consider subscribing to my free weekly letters. It’s a community of people who, like you, care about what’s up in their heads.
P.S. Please note that this story is based on my personal experience, the books I’ve read, and the teachings I have received. Don’t follow online advice if your mental health is severely at risk; reach out to friends, professionals, and other groups to gain relevant support for your particular situation.
Thank you for being here.