Edit: since this post I’ve quit Instagram for good and deleted my account. You can read about that here.

It’s been a busy week. Our warm spring weather disappeared, replaced by dark dreary days. We even had a couple of mornings of snow. Not unusual for Wisconsin and I haven’t minded. I have lots of projects I’m working on in my studio.

The creative sluggishness I felt all winter has finally lifted and I can’t keep up with my ideas. I also have some new opportunities that I’m so excited about.

I mentioned recently (here and here) about feeling discontented with Instagram and felt this topic deserved its own post, but it’s been hard to write. Most likely because of my own ambivalence and a lingering wish to be able to enjoy it again.

I’ve taken breaks in the past and a little over a year ago even deleted Instagram from my phone for six weeks. On returning, I never loved it as I had before.

On the one hand, Instagram was a wonderful place to make connections with other artists and with my students (and very rarely, for me, with my customers), but I think Instagram comes with a price.

One I’m not so interested in paying anymore.

The biggest price, for me, is my time. Time is precious. There are so many things I want to do. During my creative retreat “I learned that the most important thing for my creativity, for my inspiration and for my art is making, claiming and fiercely protecting the time and space necessary to create.”

Making connections is important and wonderful, but I’ve found it harder and harder to make authentic connections on Instagram. To truly connect through social media, on more than the most superficial level, requires a lot of time. I’d much rather be connecting in a way that doesn’t need me to be plugged into an app, chained to my phone.

Time alone is a good enough reason to give up social media, or at least take a step back from it, but there are other deeper and more nuanced issues at play as well.

Posting on social media in an open, authentic and truly honest way is very hard. Instagram is designed to be about appearances. Our feeds must be carefully curated or our accounts suffer. There are ways to weave in authenticity, to share messes and failures and struggles, but, again, it requires time. Time to create not just photos to share but Stories and Reels and IGTV.

That’s another problem I have with Instagram. There are so many features involved with the app that we’re “supposed” to use in order to be successful. More and more of it is geared toward video. I have nothing against video, but creating quality video content takes even more time than photography or composing captions. Plus engaging with content on Instagram means spending more time watching video content as well and that’s not the reason I go Instagram.

I realize that by talking about accounts suffering, about curating feeds, about what we’re supposed to do to be successful, I’ve internalized the pressure to use the app a certain way. It’s hard not to. As a business owner I’m constantly bombarded by advice about social media with an underlying assumption that using it is required. The same goes for Facebook (which I quit years ago and haven’t missed in the least).

All of this time spent on social media is made to look like time spent on your business but in reality, the work you put in on Instagram is probably more of a benefit to Facebook (who owns Instagram) than to you. Likes and followers on social media, unless they translate to newsletter subscribers, customers or students, are simply vanity metrics.

I have real problems with Facebook (privacy, politics, ads, misinformation, the way the platform fosters animosity and trash-talking — all of these are HUGE issues and although I added a couple of links, they barely scratch the surface — do your own research if you want more than just my opinion). I continued to ignore the fact that Facebook bought Instagram because I liked using the app. Take the good with the bad, right?

Going back to the idea of time, when I returned to IG after having deleted it from my phone I decided the best way to approach using it would be to have a plan. Prep photos and create a content calendar to streamline everything. Set time limits for using the app. It sounds great on paper, but in practice it felt empty.

Sharing here on my blog, sharing in my newsletter… those connections feel meaningful to me. Playing the game of Instagram just doesn’t anymore. So why do it?

This time around I didn’t make a conscious choice to quit Instagram. I just no longer felt the desire or the need to be present there. Letting go of it, even unintentionally, helped free up my inspiration. I didn’t feel limited by the pressure to create “shareable" art or to be “Instagram worthy”.

I’m not the only artist who’s stepped away from Instagram. Here are a few others:

• Kelly Rae Roberts broke up with social media last October. She has recently shared how doing so has been wonderful for her creativity.

• Julia Bausenhardt quit social media nearly two years ago (but has recently found inspiration and community on Twitter).

• Laura Bray stepped away from social media as part of cultivating a practice with more inspiration and less drama.

• Rebecca Green is calling hers “an Intermission from Instagram.”

• Helen Redfern has written extensively (here and here, for example) about her feelings and experiences using Instagram (although most recently with a shift in focus she has been able to see its good side).

• Rae Hoekstra of Made by Rae recently mentioned cutting back on social media and how it holds little appeal for her right now.

Of course, whether or not you enjoy using Instagram is personal. I’m not trying to influence your decision to use the app.

Maybe you love it and have found a way to comfortably fit it into your life. If so, I’m glad you have. I’m happy to have stepped away from Instagram for the moment. My business is booming. My creativity is flowing. Right now Instagram doesn’t fit into my days.