Goodbye IG

I didn’t dramatically quit Instagram, but it’s reached its peak for me, so I stopped pretending it was a place I lived.

What surprised me most was how hard it was to say I was leaving, despite barely posting for years. That’s when I realized the attachment wasn’t about use. At some point it became a platform where I felt muted, not amplified. It was about being seen about the quiet pressure to remain legible, when what I want is the mess of real life: connection with no clean edges.

I want slower channels. Direct ones. Newsletters crafted with intention. Books and playlists recommended by someone I choose. Podcasts that ignite something in me. Coffee shops and art galleries. Small, local economies where attention and money circulate with care. Spaces built by us, for us.