What happened when I stopped doing Instagram stories?
I stopped showing up online. Notes on quiet creativity.
Moi 👋🏻
I’ve been thinking a lot about how we show up online, and what it costs us. Time, attention, focus, joy, to name a few.
This is the story of why I quit doing Instagram Stories and what I learned in the process.
Maybe you’ve felt it too: the pull to share, the fatigue that follows, the question of what we’re really doing here.
I got sick of Instagram stories
Nearly two years ago, I got sick of Instagram Stories.
I got sick of the idea that I was working for something that would disappear 24 hours later.
I got sick of the idea that people spent time looking at my face, getting access to my life.
Aaand, I got sick of how much time I was willing to give away just to get pretty much nothing in return.
It was fun too, of course, getting the attention.
But in 10 years, the rules of digital marketing changed. It wasn’t about still images or text anymore. It was about fast content. Unfortunately, my medium was and is slow and still in every possible way.
Instagram wanted me to share more, but I wanted to share less.
“I wish I’d done more stories…”
Don’t get me wrong.
I love watching reels, even stories. One of my favorite pastimes is laughing or/and crying at Facebook videos.
But to be my own production team? To shift focus from photography and writing to videography?
Not for me.
After becoming a parent, I realized how little time I have (or how much time I used to have). I’m not going to use it to record some inane babble.
Those of you who’ve followed me for many years know that at some point, stories were my cup of tea. It was nice to feel connected to the people who listened to my podcast or booked a session with me.
But would I, on my deathbed, regret doing too few stories? Damn it, I wish I’d done more reels…
I decided to quit doing Instagram Stories to get more time. And it was the best thing to happen for my business in a while.
What I learned when I quit doing stories?
I got what I wanted: more time. When I didn’t have the social media apps on my phone, I read and wrote more, did Japanese crosswords, took longer walks, and watched Netflix without a phone in hand.
At some point, I got them back (after my Meta accounts were deleted — yes, a story for another time) and felt like I needed to have them on my phone. That’s probably not true, but it makes my life easier when I oversee clients’ accounts.
With more time came deeper focus. Of course. Social media is the worst thing that has ever happened to my focusing skills.
When I quit doing IG stories, I quit searching photo ops. Since I wasn’t reporting, I was more present. I literally felt the stress of doing two or more things at once melt away. These days, when I think of photo ops, they’re most likely for our family album.
One of the most surprising things was that I started to value my photography more. Since I’ve built my business with the help of social media, I’ve also built it for social media. Now I see my work more clearly, because there is a path to follow. No more photos for the sake of, “What to post on Instagram today?”
Keeping things to yourself can be bold
I remember the first time I wasn’t going to pull my iPhone out to report something I did or saw. I just let go of the desire to share and continued living.
It felt extremely good, liberating, bold even. But most of all, it was exciting. It felt good to keep things to myself.
Isn’t it strange?
I’ve written online for the past 20 years, and had social media accounts for 15, and yet I’ve always been a private person, someone who wants to stay in the background.
I’ve always felt a bit off when I’ve shared something personal, and even more so when there’s been an influx of new followers in a short period of time.
Obviously, I hadn’t thought this through before I started podcasting in 2017. Two years later, it had become so tiring to be the face of the show that I just wanted to quit. With the help of the famous Finnish sisu, grit, I ran it for more than 150 episodes over five years.
It was loads of fun, absolutely. But it’s more fun to be without.
On somebody else’s scale I’ve never been an over-sharer, but the consistency of showing up every single day blurred my boundaries.
What will the limelight reveal?
Tell me this: when the limelight hits you, what will it reveal?
Will it show what you want it to show, or what you were thinking of showing, or have you taken a misstep (or two) because of popular demand?
My first social media account for my business was a Facebook page I created in 2010. Back then, every post was shown to everyone, and algorithm was something we hadn’t even heard of.
It was cool to get so many pairs of eyes on my work, and that page was the only reason why I was able to leave my day job already at the end of 2011.
That page established my business.
Of course, it was okay to step into the limelight then, because I did it hand in hand with my work. Fast forward to now, when digital marketing (as a creative) feels like welcoming people to watch you sleep.
In the end, it was an easy decision to quit doing stories and let go of any regular posting schedule. In 2023, my business had changed, and I didn’t have to sell my creative services via social media anymore.
But how would my marketing look if that wasn’t the case?
The social media fatigue shows in Substack too
I don’t know how my marketing would look if I still worked as a full-time portrait photographer. But I hope, I’d connect with potential clients here on Substack.
I found my way here in 2023, thanks to Ash Parsons Story whose words I love.
First, I was just a reader.
Then suddenly, it dawned on me to give this platform a go. Could it serve my grand goal of becoming a blogger once again? Could I find like-minded people who’d enjoy reading my words and looking at my photos? My urge to write and photograph hadn’t changed. Actually, the opposite. Now that the financial pressure was gone, creativity bloomed.
Substack has been a nice playground, but it has its flaws too. It requires more and more of my attention if I want to gain traction here. But I still like the idea of a direct connection with my readers, and the fact that there are no ads. (Let’s hope it stays that way.)
Unfortunately, the social media fatigue shows here and in my life too. This means I don’t see the significance of having a digital footprint anymore, and that’s what might terminate my future.
I’m not a unique snow flake
Whatever happens, however I continue pursuing my creativity here and elsewhere, I know I’m not alone.
I read posts like this one ever so often. I stumbled onto two just last week.
The shift is happening. People want to get out, and they want to keep their lives to themselves. For some, it’s Instagram, for others, it’s their entire online presence. I can relate to Kate Eskuri, DNP when she says she’s never existed as an adult without some form of online presence.
And right after reading Kate’s post, I stumbled on Jo Usmar’s piece about how social media never makes us feel good after scrolling:
So really. I’m not alone. We’re not alone.
For me the biggest problem is being the face, but for you, it could be something else: the pace, the pressure, the ever-changing skillset needed to create well-working content… Anything!
But I know the rules, and I bet you do too.
We are the incarnations of our work. People get to know our work through us. Without being your own influencer, it’s hard.
But I don’t want to spend my days talking at the camera. Shouting into the void. Praying for the Meta Gods to give me more visibility. Playing the algorithm lottery.
Just look at my work, and get on with your life.
-Nani
I’m curious though: how do you feel about being online these days? Are you still showing up the way you used to? Or have you stepped back too?
Leave a comment if you feel like sharing. I’d love to hear how you’re navigating this strange, connected, exhausting world.
I think the content game is up for a lot of people. Not for everyone, but many. Like, "If it’s not real, don’t ask me to pretend it is." Maybe we’re leaving the age of branding and entering the age of holding a signal.
Personally, I’ve started to laugh at algorithms and engagement metrics. I’ll write what I write and share what I share – I don’t try to fit into containers, I move through them.
I’ve honestly hated most social platforms, and been mostly off of them. But something’s shifted. I no longer care, and that makes all the difference. I’m even considering Instagram – I could build a mischievous greenhouse there. Which, in my case, is more than a massive surprise 😄
Thank you so much for the shout out! I'm really glad you enjoyed the piece and that it struck a cord. (I mean, I'm sorry it struck a cord because the fact that social media makes us feel so ugh sucks – but it is a relief to realise we're not alone.) Everything about this subject resonates. Aaarrrgggghhhh!