A few days ago, I felt I was succumbed to the temptation of using Instagram, which I have been trying to stay away from. The temptation was the result of thinking whether it is a good idea to upload some of my photographs there. I don't know why, perhaps, publicity was the spur. I opened an account, but for some reasons, I could not upload landscape photos to Instagram. I posted some photos of myself and tried different colors and features. I spent nearly two hours playing with a couple of photos. Then, suddenly, I thought, if I had spent that much time, I could have edited several photos on Photoshop and uploaded them to my website, or I could have read a few articles.
Time was not the only thing that I was worried about, it was something else: the ego. I did not download the Instagram app, but instead, I used the website through a backchannel. Even though everything looked basic, my photos looked fancy after I manipulated the light and color values. I could have stopped it, but the features and tools dictated me to do more. Therefore, I spent more time trying every available features.
Then, the following day, when I opened my account, I looked at my photos again. They looked great, except no one followed me. I thought, that is because I declined to share my contacts, or letting my friends know that I have created an account on Instagram. I again started working on my pictures. As I kept using different colors and tools to shape my portraits as best as I could, I felt drawn into the idea that I could possibly make myself look great and attractive. What a weird and unrealistic thing to do, I thought.
But for some reasons, I could not satisfy myself, I wanted my photos look really good. I never experienced such an urge before to spend this much time on my own portraits. It seemed ridiculous and I felt defenseless to the temptation and persuasion of tools that were offered to me.
It was then that I thought of the harmful impact of social media, such as Instagram, on the brain and behavior. I was offered a space, a strange yet familiar in which I felt I am not good enough. Two things happened at the same. The tools on Instagram asked me to boost my ego by changing hues and make saturation adjustment on my face, but at the same time, it took away my self-esteem from me. I felt insecure, but it offered me a panacea that I can indulge myself in egotistical projection of me and my personhood.
It was not the tools and features per se, but a range of other factors that were enticing. It opened a window to me, which listed some famous people and some were even familiar ones, and it asked me to follow them. Additionally, it ask me to share my contacts with the system. Then, it wanted me to send an invitation to my contacts and ask them to follow me on Instagram. I had a moment where I thought to myself, "What a bizarre thing that could be." I thought, I would become entangled in the web of self-doubt, insecurity, and perhaps, mental depletion.
Finally, today, I deleted my account on Instagram. It felt great. I patted myself on the back for I lost nothing. I felt I have protected myself from the invasiveness of Instagram, specially its e-mails and pushier notifications. I am considering staying away from social media like Facebook and Twitter, in general. So, I may delete or deactivate them in the year of 2019.