Instagram is ruining my life

Last year, Instagram was voted the most dangerous social media app for mental health.
My partner reminds me every time he sees me mindlessly scrolling through my feed of fitness models, tanned blondes in long dresses standing candid in front of the Eiffel tower, and  flat lays of skin products that cost about 1000 dollars plus my soul.
People I follow because their content interests me. Inspires me to live the life I want. Shows me the life I want..
Wait, what?
The truth 
I’ll be the first one to admit that instagram doesn’t always make me happy. While I’m innocently pursuing my feed it doesn’t take long for “wow what a beautiful sunset over the Angkor Wat, I should book a trip to Cambodia” to turn into “Wow what a beautiful model with a banging bod I should really buy that exact same bikini, 200 dollars worth of Bondi Sans and get a boob job”.
All of a sudden, based on a perfectly face-tuned image probably taken by a ‘boyfriend of instagram’, I’m not enough.  It might sound pathetic and okay, I suppose it is, but it is also devastatingly sad.
The effect of instagram on self worth stems from the very nature of the app. It’s all about images. Its not just about the sharing of selfies, but how we are so invested in the results. How many likes we get and how many people comment saying “OMG I die babe you’re so perfect”.

We become addicted to the validation like a drug, a tiny pill sized button on a social media app that can make us feel so high, and then so low.

Wanting to be liked is not a new phenomenon. I’m not trying to say that Instagram came along and suddenly we all cared about what other people thought. What instagram gives us is data that we can effectively used to quantity just how liked we are.  “85 likes -  pretty decent, 30 likes - not good enough, better delete.”
But we don’t just need instagram to validate our appearance, we need it to validate our lives.
FOMO
According to the quick google search I just conducted, “the fear of missing out” was first written about by marketing strategist Dan Herman. It didn’t become a widely used phrase some 10 years later, used to describe the all consuming anxiety that something important is happening and we are not involved. Another phenomenon not unique to instagram, the difference is that instagram creates unrealistic expectations about the lives we have, and the lives we are missing out on.
Our feeds are filled with highlight reels, the very best version of other peoples lives. Often these highlight reels are not authentic, (I don’t have to tell you how many photo editing apps are out there that will make you booty look bigger and your waist appear smaller. The right application can completely disguise the spot on your forehead, make an overcast day appear sunny, and even get rid of the 3 unsuspecting tourists, ruining your photo in front of the Taj Mahal.)
All of a sudden we aren’t afraid we’re missing out, we know we are. We aren’t drinking rose in a brightly coloured Airbnb on the Cinque Terre, we aren’t wearing a miss Crabb dress to the Melbourne races, or holding a passport and a ticket to San Fran in our Karen Walker adorned hands.
And if we aren’t doing those things then what the hell are we doing? Whatever we’re doing it’s not enough.
Don’t get me started on influencers..
Influencers are people who make a living off posting images on instagram with the aim of making you buy into their lives.  Making you want what they have.
Once someone has enough followers on Instagram to make them appear “influencial”, whether said followers were earned or bought, brands will start sending “PR” packages, filled with freebees in the hope that they will review the product and promote it to their social media audience. ‘TADA’ more money.
That Sydney blogger you follow who always seems to be drinking champagne on yachts? The one who recommended Frank body coffee scrub to you because it “Saved her life” I’m here to tell you that Frank paid her to do that. Maybe she likes the scrub, maybe she doesn’t, but it probably didn’t save her life and she probably wouldn’t have been posting about it if there wasn’t anything in it for her. While some influencers will only promote products that they genuinely believe in, others sell out and will promote just about anything if the incentive is good enough.
The reality is, your life doesn’t need to be a constant rooftop party with a celebrity DJ. Too often we lose sight of the important things in our lives because we’re so busy comparing them to someone else’s.  Social media apps like Instagram facilitate our fear of failure and obsessive perfectionism leaving us paralysed with feelings of inadequacy. Leaving us anxious.
Depressed.
​ Many of us have forgotten the art of doing nothing. The very philosophy that promotes mindfulness and positive mental health.
Lets talk about addiction. Here it is guys and I hope this hits you as hard as it hit me. Instagram is addictive, and it was designed specifically to be addictive.  Social media algorithms are rewarded based on how much time we spend on an app and how much we engage with the content - that reward means that the app can do a better job of keeping you there. A better job of controlling you.
Meanwhile outside of your phone, life is going on without you. You were worried about FOMO before well, worry about it now.  Instead of enjoying the lives we have we’re busy studying other peoples lives. I want you to think about how much time you spent on social media today and ask yourself what else you could have done with that time. Today, I decided to stop checking out Gracefituk’s perfect ass and wrote this blog.
I wrote it because Instagram is ruining my life. It’s ruining my holidays because I feel under pressure to get the perfect “instagram worthy” photo. It’s ruining Saturday brunch with my friends because I’m too busy trying to take a good photo of my latte to ask them how their new job is going. It’s ruining my evenings because I scroll mindlessly on my phone for an hour before bed, and then go to sleep criticising myself. Telling myself I’m not enough.
I’ll leave you with this…
We think we’re doing ourselves a favour when we jump on social media,  by keeping ourselves updated on the lives of our friends and family, our old uni mates, and even that old high school flame you haven’t spoken to since 2009.
Maybe you woke up in the morning feel pretty good about yourself. You made it to your 8am class at Les Mills, you’ve got plans to meet the girls after work for a catch up and your skin is has finally cleared up thanks to that vitamin E cream you invested 80 bucks into.
You scroll through Facebook and you see that Susan, who was honestly a dick in high school, is flying first class to New York with her new job in PR.  Megan from year 9 just got spent 4 hours and your entire pay check in the salon because she “fancied a change”, Johnathan just bought himself a new Audi, Kelly just got engaged engaged… Hannah just got engaged.. and so did Emily and Andrea.
Suddenly you’re life seems pathetic. The entry level grad job that you work your ass of in isn’t good enough. The Kookai dress you invested your first pay check into, is now 2 seasons old and it isn’t good enough. The photo’s you took on a weekend in Wanaka and just going to look boring next to the photo’s Stephanie posted of her summer in Florence.
Why is your life so average? Why are you such a failure? Why do you even bother?
Stop!
What you don’t realise is that behind the scenes, Susan is still a dick. Megan spent all that money at the salon to distract from the fact that her marriage is falling apart and the reason Andrea got engaged, only 4 months after meeting her new arm candy, is because her Dad has terminal cancer and all she wants is for him to walk her down the isle.
Instagram is not important. Instagram is not real life. Your relationships are important, your productivity is important.
You are important.
You are enough.