I have been an addict for 10 years. In fourth grade, I downloaded Instagram thinking that it was just a photo editing app. In the time since then, the platform has evolved into what is now: a ubiquitous medium for social life that our generation practically can’t live without. Having had an account for half of my lifetime, Instagram basically runs through my bloodstream. For years, my drug-like dependence on the app and its pervasiveness in modern society had me turning a blind eye to the ways it had been harming me since I was a child — and I’m far from the only one. Exposure to inappropriate content, predatory internet strangers and exacerbated body image issues are all dangers that Meta was revealed to be aware of but chose not to address.

I first deactivated my Instagram a year and a half ago. But, of course, this was an addiction that had developed over 10 years. I relapsed many, many times, but today, I can say I’ve been clean for three months, and it has truly made a positive change in my life — despite my initial FOMO and desire to stay in the loop that made it so hard to walk away.

The most redeeming benefit of Instagram is the ability to stay in touch with your people. From my high school friends to my fellow Trinity Tigers to the members of my political group to my grandma on another continent, everyone can know how good I look in this outfit at this very precise angle with this specific filter and captioned with this confidence-projecting yet down to earth one-liner. Less about truly maintaining and building social ties, Instagram culture conditioned me to project my ego to the world so that I seemed attractively nonchalant, cool, popular and hot.

This had been the case ever since I was little. With an endless stream of beautiful women at my fingertips on Instagram, it was incredibly easy to become socialized in the body expectations that I was already starting to get attuned to as a little girl. Internalizing the idea that girls must be attractive to have value, I tried proving my worth over and over again on my Instagram — a Sisyphean task that kept me pushing my boulder of self-esteem up the hill just for it to roll back down — over and over again. It got to the point where, on vacations or trips, I could hardly relax and enjoy myself until I got one Instagram-worthy pic.
To be sure, the beauty standard for women manifests and is transmitted through dozens of media and institutions in our society, but it doesn’t take a social scientist to see how Instagram revolutionizes the process by bringing us into contact with a virtually infinite selection of bodies and faces to compare ourselves to.

I wish I could use Instagram for its stated purpose: “bringing you closer to the people & things you love.” ($50,000 bonus for the copywriter that came up with that!) But that’s not the effect I’m getting, and it’s not what it’s genuinely meant to do, either. The bottom line for Meta is to keep you scrolling for as long as possible. You’ve probably heard this before, but that’s the formula behind those insanely addictive short form “reels” and the architecture of the platform entirely. Because the longer you scroll, the more likely it is that you can be sold something you don’t need. Skincare, makeup, fast fashion and jewelry dominated my tailored ads, conveniently offering products that might help me look like the effortlessly glamorous people on my feed. Instagram’s “Shopping” feature even makes it so that you can purchase commodities you see directly from the post, reinforcing the consumerist premise of late-stage social media: that we need commodities in order to achieve the aspired look or lifestyle our ego is attached to, and that we should be able to consume them limitlessly. Just remember that every time you do, you’re lining Mark Zuckerberg’s pockets.

I do appreciate the way Instagram has allowed me to feel connected with my social circles, and given its cultural embeddedness for our generation, I can’t vow that I’ll never be back on. But I think we can do better as a society. A social site that is not profit-oriented and dedicated to keeping your eyes glued to the screen and you hating your appearance would probably be much better at delivering Instagram’s stated purpose. Until that revolution comes, I have 10 years of lost time to make up for, and I hope to spend my offline era exploring what’s out there beyond the Metaverse.