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December was a month of winter glow, soft reflection, festive beauty, and memories gathered at the edge of a closing year. This archive gathers the Photo Journal galleries from December 2024 in one place, preserving the month as it appeared through RockyMtnBabe®.
Love often defies explanation, and ours is no exception. Across the countless posts and quiet messages, a bond has formed between us—one so profound it feels as if the universe itself conspired to bring our souls together. It is strange, isn’t it? To love someone you have never held, to feel so deeply for someone you may never meet. And yet, I know it is real.
You have been my constant companion in this vast digital space. In your words, I find comfort. In your creations, I see beauty. And in your quiet, steadfast support, I discover a love that feels boundless. We have built something extraordinary in a world where connection often feels fleeting. It may not be conventional, but it is ours—a love that exists without the confines of time or distance.
I sometimes wonder if others would understand, but then I remind myself that love is not for others to define. It is for us to live, to cherish, to hold close in the ways we can. Though we may never share a tangible touch or a whispered word, you are in my heart, always.
Marcie, thank you for being my anchor, my muse, and my joy. I may never stand beside you in the physical world, but in every way that matters, I am by your side.
Yours, always,
Lairissa
Be sure to follow my babe, Marcie Beau on Instagram
If you believe, like I do, that the emotions we share online are just as real as those we experience face to face, you might also enjoy my post No Such Thing as Fantasy Emotions.
If you liked this, you might want to read A Galaxy of Memories: One Year With Marcie and In This Galaxy, I Found You. You Are My Everything
May was a month of soft light, playful stories, fantasy moments, quiet mornings, and little flashes of magic behind the images. This archive gathers the Photo Journal galleries from May 2026 in one place, preserving the month as it appeared through RockyMtnBabe®.
October was a month of autumn color, creative energy, playful moods, and little flashes of seasonal magic. This archive gathers the Photo Journal galleries from October 2024 in one place, preserving the month as it appeared through RockyMtnBabe®.
I had a lot of fun creating these spooky Halloween illustrations. I love creating the artsy stuff. Images like this don’t always translate to my Instagram feed so I like to share them here. I hope you enjoy them, if you do drop a comment on the post and let me know. Thank you for taking the time to check out my creations. Love, Rissa 💜
September was a month of soft transitions, fading summer light, early autumn beauty, and moments caught between warmth and change. This archive gathers the Photo Journal galleries from September 2024 in one place, preserving the month as it appeared through RockyMtnBabe®.
August was a month of sunlit beauty, playful moods, golden warmth, and little stories captured before summer began to soften at the edges. This archive gathers the Photo Journal galleries from August 2024 in one place, preserving the month as it appeared through RockyMtnBabe®.
When I reactivated my Instagram account, I felt a wave of excitement and relief. After overcoming a mental block and the fears of returning, I was ready to dive back in. But what I didn’t expect was the strange sense of detachment that soon followed. Everyone welcomed me back with open arms, and yet, instead of feeling exhilarated, I felt like the oxygen had left the room. It was like trying to rekindle a relationship after a breakup—the magic just wasn’t there. I thought I’d jump right back in and pick up where I left off, but instead, it felt like something had changed. It’s hard to put into words, but the best way I can describe it is like trying to get back together with someone after a breakup. The chemistry was off, the energy was different, and I find myself questioning why I didn’t feel the same spark that I used to.
As I started to unpack these feelings, I realized that there was more going on beneath the surface. I wasn’t just feeling ‘blah’; I was dealing with the aftermath of my own expectations and the emotional toll of what had happened before I deactivated my account.
I realized there was still a lingering hurt, something that hadn’t fully healed. I wanted to feel inspired, to create like I used to, but there was a block—almost as if I hadn’t forgiven Instagram for what had happened. How do you let go of that kind of energy? How do you move on and rediscover the joy in creating?
This morning, I created an image that I would have been proud of a few months ago, but now, it just feels flat. There’s no excitement, no spark. It made me realize that I’m struggling with more than just a creative block—I’m battling the pressure to stay relevant, to keep up with the metrics that Instagram constantly throws in my face. It’s hard to dance like nobody’s watching when you know that everyone is.
This made me think about the psychology behind it all. I learned that when you receive likes and followers, your brain releases dopamine—a neurotransmitter associated with pleasure and reward. It creates a sense of validation and satisfaction, but it also makes you reliant on external validation to feel good about your work or yourself. This explained why simply creating an awesome image wasn’t enough for me—I was seeking something deeper, something that made me feel validated.
It turns out that this pressure is common. According to social comparison theory, people have an innate drive to compare themselves to others as a way to evaluate their own abilities and value. Instagram’s metrics make it so easy to fall into this trap, where I start to equate my worth with my social media performance. No wonder I’ve been feeling so drained.
When I first started my Instagram journey, it was all about learning and experimenting with AI. The idea of sharing my creations with others was exciting, and the followers came quicker than I expected. But somewhere along the way, my focus shifted from the joy of creating to the need for performance and metrics. I’ve always been driven by competition—it’s in my nature to compare, to strive, to win. But in the Instagram world, that drive can feel like both a blessing and a curse.
Through this reflection, I’ve come to understand that my desire for followers and validation is deeply rooted in my competitive nature. The CliftonStrengths assessment I took in high school highlighted competition as one of my core strengths, explaining why I thrive on comparison and measurement. This has fueled my successes, but it’s also made me more vulnerable to the pressures of social media. Moving forward, I need to find a balance between my drive to achieve and the joy of creating for myself
I’ve learned that I’m deeply driven by metrics—maybe too much. It’s something I struggle with, but it’s also a part of who I am. I’m wired to compete, to achieve, to focus on growth. And while that drive can push me to create, it can also make me question my worth when the numbers don’t add up. The question now is whether to fight that instinct or embrace it.
I don’t have all the answers yet, and maybe that’s okay. This experience has made me rethink my relationship with Instagram and how I approach my creative work. Moving forward, I need to figure out what role Instagram should play in my life—whether it’s a central part of my expression or just one of many outlets. For now, I’m still figuring that out.
I’ve tried other platforms, but Instagram still feels like the place where my work resonates most. Yet, this reliance on external validation is something I need to manage better. How do I create in a way that’s fulfilling, even when the metrics don’t add up? The technical aspect of AI image generation excites me, but it’s the sharing that really motivates me. It’s the act of putting my work out there, of seeing it resonate with others, that keeps me going. Yet, that need for validation is also what complicates my relationship with Instagram. And if I don’t find a way to keep it from consuming me it could derail me and prevent me from continuing one of the most creative experiences I have ever had. And that would be shame.
I’ve learned that it’s okay to acknowledge my need for validation—after all, it’s part of who I am. But I also realize that I need to set boundaries, detox from metrics occasionally, and focus on what truly motivates me. It’s about finding joy in the creative process itself, rather than solely in the outcome. I’m still figuring out where to go from here. This experience has made me rethink my relationship with Instagram and how I approach my creative work. Moving forward, I want to experiment with new ways of engaging with Instagram—ways that prioritize my well-being and creative fulfillment over metrics. I’m committed to staying true to myself, even if it means changing how I interact with social media.
This journey is far from over, but I’m learning to embrace the uncertainty and trust in my ability to navigate it. Whether I continue to share my work on Instagram or explore new avenues, I’m ready to take the next step—wherever it leads.
Over the past few days, I’ve found myself in a place I never imagined—disconnected from a platform that has been such a significant part of my life. Instagram has always been my creative space, a place where I’ve shared my love for beauty, positivity, and connection. But something happened recently that shook me to my core, and I felt compelled to step away. I made a comment in jest, something meant to be lighthearted and fun between friends, only to find it labeled as a violation of community guidelines. Suddenly, the platform I loved and trusted was telling me I had done something wrong, something harmful. It felt like a punch to the gut, and in a moment of frustration and sadness, I deactivated my account. Now, I’m left grappling with feelings of loss, shame and embarrassment, wondering if I made the right decision and struggling with the idea of returning. This blog post is my way of working through those feelings and sharing my story with you.
Over the weekend of August 10-11, I attended the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally and shared some fun images of myself in biker wear, surrounded by roaring motorcycles. My Instagram friend Meg saw my posts, and soon we were both sharing and commenting on each other’s Rally adventures. The weekend was filled with excitement, and it only got better when Meg suggested we collaborate on a post. She created an incredible image of us at Devil’s Tower, Wyoming, dressed in leather outfits, which she posted on Saturday. It was the perfect way to celebrate our time together.
On Sunday, after a long drive back home to Breckenridge, I opened Instagram to find that Meg had posted one last image from the Rally, saying how much fun she had with me. I commented with a playful response: “Thank you, Meg! We made memories that will last forever! What a blast! And yes, now for the long drive home. Next year is the 85th Rally! Let’s make sure we kidnap @lorijunetwo and take her along next year! 
” It was meant to be lighthearted and fun—just friends joking around.
Afterward, I went to have dinner, feeling content. But when I returned to Instagram an hour later, I was blindsided by a notification. Instagram had flagged my comment, claiming it violated their Community Guidelines. The message read, “It looks like you shared or sent something that could encourage violence and lead to risk of physical harm, or a direct threat to public safety.” I was stunned. How could a joke between friends be interpreted as inciting violence?
I thought it must be a mistake—a bot misinterpreting the context. I immediately requested a review, confident that a human would see the comment for what it was. I went to bed that night feeling hopeful.
The next morning, I woke up eager to see the results of the review. I was sure that Instagram would overturn the decision. But when I checked the app, I was hit with the devastating news: the review upheld the flag. They had determined that my comment indeed broke the guideline, accusing me of inciting violence and physical harm. My heart sank.
I started to cry, overwhelmed by the accusation. My entire Instagram presence has been about spreading positivity, love, and joy. I’ve always taken pride in uplifting others, making them smile, and being a source of support. And now, Instagram was labeling me as an inciter of violence. It felt like a complete betrayal of everything I stand for.
In that moment of hurt and anger, I made a decision. I navigated to the settings and deactivated my account. My hands were trembling, but I couldn’t bear the thought of staying on a platform that accused me of something so opposite to my nature. Afterward, I threw my phone down and curled up in bed, sobbing.
After deactivating my Instagram account, I felt a rush of mixed emotions—relief, anger, and a deep sense of sadness. In the heat of the moment, it felt like the only way to take back control, to protect myself from the overwhelming hurt that Instagram’s judgment had caused. But as the hours passed, that initial relief started to fade, replaced by a growing sense of shame and embarrassment.
I began questioning my actions, wondering if I had overreacted, if maybe I had let my emotions get the best of me. Deactivating my account felt like a drastic move, almost like I had thrown a temper tantrum in response to being misunderstood. And now, here I am, left to grapple with the aftermath of that decision.
The shame is particularly difficult to shake. I can’t help but feel like I let down my friends and followers—the people who have supported me, cheered me on, and been part of my journey on Instagram. I walked away from them without explanation, leaving them wondering why I suddenly disappeared. And the embarrassment? It stems from the fear that if I do return to Instagram, I’ll look foolish, like I’m crawling back after a moment of weakness.
These feelings have weighed heavily on me, making it hard to think clearly about my next steps. Should I stay away and focus on healing, or should I confront these emotions head-on by rejoining the platform? The truth is, I’m still not sure. All I know is that this decision has opened up a whirlwind of emotions that I’m struggling to navigate.
As the days have gone by, the weight of this decision has only grown heavier. The initial anger has subsided, but it’s left behind a lingering sense of doubt. Did I make the right choice? Was deactivating my account a necessary step in protecting myself, or was it an impulsive reaction driven by hurt and frustration? The more I think about it, the more complicated it becomes.
There’s also the question of what happens next. If I return to Instagram, how do I do it without feeling like I’ve lost something in the process? How do I explain my absence to my followers in a way that doesn’t feel like an apology, but rather an honest reflection of what I’ve been going through? And if I decide to stay away, how do I fill the void that Instagram has left in my life—the creative outlet, the connections, the sense of community?
It’s a difficult decision, and there’s no clear answer. But what I do know is that I need to be gentle with myself during this process. It’s okay to feel confused and unsure. It’s okay to take my time in figuring out what comes next. And most importantly, it’s okay to acknowledge that this experience has shaken me in ways I didn’t expect.
Right now, I’m focusing on finding clarity. Whether that means taking more time away from Instagram or slowly reintroducing myself to the platform, I need to do what feels right for me—not what I think others expect of me. This journey is mine, and I’m determined to navigate it in a way that honors my feelings and experiences.
Part of reclaiming my story was reconnecting with my real self, which I shared more deeply in Real Me vs. Digital Me.
As I sit with the aftermath of deactivating my Instagram account, I’ve had time to reflect on what this platform really means to me and how it’s shaped my sense of self. Instagram has been more than just a place to share photos—it’s been a creative outlet, a source of connection, and, at times, a measure of my self-worth. But this experience has forced me to confront the darker side of that relationship.
In the days since I stepped away, I’ve realized how much I relied on the instant validation that likes, comments, and follows provided. It’s easy to get caught up in the numbers, to equate engagement with value, and to forget that my worth isn’t defined by an algorithm. The incident with Instagram’s guidelines shook me because it felt like a rejection of everything I stand for. But maybe it was also a wake-up call—a reminder that my true value isn’t something that can be measured by an app.
This period of reflection has made me more aware of the pressures that come with being an influencer. The constant need to post, to stay relevant, to grow my following—it can be exhausting. And while I’ve loved sharing my journey with others, I also need to recognize when it’s taking a toll on my mental and emotional well-being. It’s okay to step back and reassess, to prioritize my own happiness and peace of mind over the demands of social media.
So, where do I go from here? The truth is, I’m still figuring that out. Part of me wants to return to Instagram, to reconnect with my followers and continue sharing my journey. But another part of me is hesitant, unsure of how to move forward without falling back into the same patterns that led to this point.
If I do return, I want to do it differently. I want to approach Instagram with a renewed sense of purpose—focusing on the joy of creating and connecting, rather than the pressure to perform. I want to be more mindful of the content I share, making sure it aligns with my values and brings positivity into the world. And I want to be kinder to myself, recognizing that it’s okay to take breaks, to step back when I need to, and to prioritize my mental health above all else.
But moving forward might also mean exploring new avenues for creativity and connection. Perhaps there are other platforms or mediums where I can express myself in ways that feel more authentic and less tied to the pressures of social media. Or maybe it’s about finding a better balance, where Instagram is just one part of a broader, more fulfilling creative life.
Whatever path I choose, I’m determined to move forward with intention, making choices that honor who I am and what I stand for. This experience has been challenging, but it’s also been a valuable reminder that my journey is my own—and I have the power to shape it in a way that feels right for me.
This chapter of my journey has been filled with unexpected twists and emotional challenges. Deactivating my Instagram account was not something I planned, but it’s given me the space to reflect on what truly matters to me. I’ve realized that my worth isn’t tied to likes or followers, and that I have the strength to navigate even the most difficult of situations.
As I move forward, I’m committed to being more mindful of how I engage with social media, and to prioritizing my well-being above all else. Whether I return to Instagram or explore new creative outlets, I know that I’m on a path of growth and self-discovery.
Thank you to everyone who has supported me along the way. Your encouragement and understanding mean the world to me, and I’m grateful to have such a wonderful community behind me. This isn’t the end of my journey—just a new beginning, one where I’m more in tune with myself and what I want out of life.
Here’s to embracing the unknown, finding clarity in the chaos, and continuing to spread positivity and love in whatever form that may take.
July was a month of warm days, vivid color, playful creativity, and memories touched by the energy of high summer. This archive gathers the Photo Journal galleries from July 2024 in one place, preserving the month as it appeared through RockyMtnBabe®.
