What a month and a bit away from Instagram taught me.
I remember when I first became aware of Instagram. A friend of mine was showing me all these beautiful little squares on her phone. I have always been a teeny tiny bit behind the curve. I’ve never even purchased a smart phone. My phone is a kindly gifted hand me down from my much more tech savvy mother-in-law. Nevertheless, I was enchanted by the concept of Instagram: A gallery in my pocket. I’m a very visual person and found the artistry and creative input on each of these little squares to be really engaging and charming. Sometimes I still need to remind myself of that love-at-first-sight reaction I had to the platform. Sometimes it’s nice to remember that there is so much creativity and interesting conversations or new perspectives to be found on Instagram. However, this December, I wasn’t feeling like that about Instagram. At all. In fact, I was on the verge of deleting the whole caboodle. Instagram was making me unhappy. And I know I’m not the only person who might be feeling …