final insta message

 Answering Some Questions & Sharing Where I've Been

First, I want to thank those of you who genuinely asked how I’m doing. Without sounding harsh or rude, some of you aren’t even people I considered close, yet you checked in, and that meant a lot. It’s something some of the people I did consider friends couldn’t even do.

Some of you jokingly asked, “Are you alive?”, “Did you disappear?”, “Did you make a new account?” As you can see, I’m alive, physically well, and doing okay for the most part.

I didn’t make a new account. I didn’t "disappear" either I chose to disengage. I distanced myself from a space that wasn’t giving back the same energy I was putting in. I stopped watching stories, viewing posts, or interacting with content. I checked my page once or twice a day, but mostly, I just lived in the moment. I didn’t need to announce my absence or deactivate like some do. I just detached.

Since the start of summer and Pride Month especially, I’ve realized my existence, to some, is based on convenience. Like many others, I exist in-between the posts and stories, and I shouldn’t have to constantly prove I’m still here. If you truly cared, you’d know how to reach me. We wouldn't exist solely on a virtual plane either. 

Some people even took offense to being left on read, yet they’re the same ones who take weeks or months to reply while posting 25 stories a day. I’m not catering to that anymore. As adults, we should all learn to compromise, friendship isn’t one-sided. Being busy isn't something only you are.

Instagram has become harder to digest. Engagement is no longer verbal or real, it’s just silent taps and hollow likes. The app fosters emptiness, and unfortunately, that same emptiness seeps into our real-life relationships too. Anyone with an ounce of intelligence can see how short attention spans are now.

It’s also become harder to live without comparing yourself to others, and that’s something I’ve been actively trying to avoid for years. This was never about looks or likes, it’s about privilege really.
Instagram has become a giant show-and-tell of “who has what”, with the occasional shared tragedy or activism post sprinkled in. 

Even forming new friendships has gotten harder. People meet you and immediately want your @ so they can decide if you're "talented enough," if you have a "personality," or if you're "dateable," all based on curated, superficial details. We don’t date or befriend pictures, babe. And now, the question people are really asking is: “How Instagrammable are they?”

If anything in this message offends you, that wasn’t my intention. But if it does bother you, maybe there’s something there to reflect on. Writing this reminded me not to feel guilty for how I feel, something a lot of people have made me feel. No more.