29a4babf

Is Instagram Suppressing My Reach… on Purpose?

If you’ve been feeling like your posts just aren’t being seen anymore — you’re not alone. Many creators, myself included, have experienced sudden drops in engagement, flatlined follower growth, and the eerie sense that we’re shouting into the void.

It’s led to a question that’s been on my mind for a while:

Is Instagram suppressing reach on purpose to push creators into paying for ads?

Let’s explore this together.

🤳 The Creator’s Dilemma

When your livelihood or passion project lives online — every like, comment, and follow matters. So when your content suddenly stops reaching people, it’s not just confusing… it’s personal.

Creators have noticed things like:

  • Posts that used to soar now barely make a ripple.

  • Boosting a post seems to result in less organic reach afterward.

  • Organic follower growth stalls — even when the content is stronger than ever.

If you’ve ever thought:

“It’s like Instagram wants me to pay just to get seen…”

You’re not alone.

📲 What Instagram Says (And Doesn’t Say)

Instagram officially denies suppressing reach to force ad spend. According to their documentation:

In a June 2021 (updated in 2023) blog post titled “Shedding More Light on How Instagram Works,” Instagram’s head, Adam Mosseri, explains that the platform uses a variety of algorithms, classifiers, and processes, each with its own purpose, to personalize user experience. He emphasizes that the algorithm rewards engagement, relevance, and timeliness, and that business accounts aren’t penalized just for being business accounts.

Additionally, a recent article from Business Insider highlights insights from Adam Mosseri, where he discusses key factors for increasing reach on Instagram, such as focusing on posting to the main feed, encouraging content sharing via direct messages, and leveraging improved SEO capabilities. This article is behind a paywall, but I include it here for completeness.

So the gist is this:

  • The algorithm rewards engagement, consistency, and relevance.

  • Business accounts aren’t penalized just for being business accounts.

  • Ads and organic content are evaluated separately in the feed.

That’s the story — but does it tell the whole truth?

💰 Why It Feels Like Pay-to-Play

Let’s be honest: Instagram’s entire business model is ad revenue.

So, while they may not directly suppress your reach, the system they’ve built:

  • Prioritizes paid content (because it’s guaranteed to get seen).
  • Filters feeds more aggressively than ever, burying content that doesn’t immediately perform.
  • Pushes creators to rely on boosts just to maintain the visibility they once had for free.

In other words:

The algorithm isn’t punishing you — but it is working exactly as designed.

🔄 And Then There’s the Algorithm Cycle…

Here’s what often happens:

  1. You post something you’re proud of — it flops.
  2. You boost it. You get followers.
  3. Next post? No engagement again.
  4. You start to feel invisible unless you pay.

It’s a cycle that can leave you burnt out, discouraged, and doubting yourself. And that’s the real harm.

When creators say, “The algorithm is punishing me,” it often comes from a place of frustration — a drop in reach, fewer likes, disappearing followers. It feels personal. Emotional. Like you’re doing something wrong.

But the truth is:
The algorithm isn’t punishing you. It’s simply doing what it was built to do — keep people on the app.

Instagram’s algorithm is designed with one core goal in mind: maximize user engagement and time spent on the platform. To do that, it constantly analyzes what content performs best with individual users, and then prioritizes delivering similar content to them.

So, what does that mean for you?

  • If your content keeps viewers watching, swiping, or commenting, you’ll likely be rewarded with more reach.

  • If your followers scroll past, don’t engage, or share your content — you’ll slowly start getting pushed out of their feeds.

But here’s the hard part:
The algorithm doesn’t consider your hard work, your creativity, your vulnerability, or your passion. It isn’t personal — but it sure feels personal. Because what it’s really doing is:

👉 Measuring behavior.
👉 Prioritizing what gets the most attention.
👉 Constantly testing and tweaking what it shows.

And, let’s be honest — Instagram is a business.
If organic reach starts to slow, what’s the next logical step? Paid promotion. And many creators report that once they start running ads, their organic reach seems to dip unless they keep paying. Whether that’s by design or not, it certainly aligns with the business model.

So no, the algorithm isn’t “punishing” you for skipping a day of posting or experimenting with a new style. But it is always adapting — and it favors consistency, shareability, and content that feeds the endless scroll.

💡 What We Can Do About It

This isn’t a hopeless story — it’s a call to recalibrate.

Here’s how I’m shifting:

Most of all:

You’re not your metrics. You’re more than your follower count.

💬 Final Thoughts

Is Instagram suppressing your reach to force you into ads?

Maybe not overtly. But the system is rigged in favor of ad spend — and that’s worth talking about. Not to discourage you… but to help you reclaim your power as a creator.

So if you’ve felt unseen lately, this is your reminder: you are not alone. And you are not failing.

You’re navigating a platform that rewards money, not always merit. But your voice — and your value — go far beyond the algorithm.

2025-04-10_11-30-26_2456-rs-blog

Using Instagram Ads Strategically (Not Desperately)

When your organic reach on Instagram starts to dip, it’s tempting to panic and hit that “Boost” button just to stay seen. But ads don’t have to feel like a last resort. In fact, used strategically, they can become a powerful tool to support your growth without draining your energy or your budget.

Here’s how to approach Instagram ads with clarity and confidence:

💡 1. Start with Purpose — Not Panic

Don’t run an ad just because a post flopped or engagement is slow. Ask yourself:

  • What do I want this ad to do?

    • Drive profile visits?
    • Gain new followers?
    • Promote a product or subscription?
    • Increase brand awareness?

Clarity in your goal is the foundation of success.

🎯 2. Boost What’s Already Working

Instead of guessing what will perform, amplify what already does well. Look at your posts with high reach, saves, shares, or engagement.

If your existing audience responded well, a broader audience probably will too.

  • Pro Tip: Pick content that instantly communicates your brand’s vibe and value. First impressions count.

🧢 3. Test Small — Then Scale

Start with a modest daily budget (like $5–$10) and test different audiences:

  • Custom Audiences: Target people who’ve engaged with your content.

  • Lookalike Audiences: Let Instagram find users similar to your followers.

  • Interest-Based Audiences: Tap into specific niches (fashion, fitness, photography, etc.).

Watch performance and optimize before you invest more.

📈 4. Optimize for Profile Visits — And Make Your Profile Count

One of the most effective ad goals is “Profile Visits.” But once they land on your profile, what do they see?

  • A bio that communicates who you are and what you offer?

  • Pinned posts that showcase your best content?

  • A cohesive aesthetic or message that invites them to follow?

Ads can get them to your door. But your content is what invites them in.

🔁 5. Ads Are a Spark — Not the Whole Fire

Use ads to:

  • Launch a new look, campaign, or collaboration.

  • Reignite momentum after a slow week.

  • Reach new potential followers after a viral moment.

But let your long-term growth come from your connection with your audience, your creativity, and your consistency.

☀️ Final Thought

Running ads isn’t cheating. It’s not desperate. It’s a tool — and like any tool, it works best in steady hands.

Use them intentionally. Experiment with joy. Build something you’re proud of.

And remember: the algorithm doesn’t own your worth.

2025-04-10_07-46-11_6297-rs-blog

Creating Beauty in the Middle of the Mess

There are days when everything feels too much—when the world spins a little too fast and your heart can’t quite keep up. I’ve had a lot of those days lately.

Between health scares, uncertainty, and the quiet ache of self-doubt, it would be easy to let go of the creative part of me. The one that dreams in color and believes that beauty still matters, even when the world feels heavy.

But I haven’t let go. And I don’t plan to.

Because creating isn’t just something I do—it’s part of how I survive. It’s how I remember who I am, especially when everything around me feels like it’s unraveling.

This month, I found myself clinging to beauty like a lifeline. Sometimes it was as simple as soft morning light filtering through curtains. Other times, it was putting on something that made me feel radiant even when I didn’t feel strong. And often, it was picking up my mind’s eye AI camera and saying, This moment deserves to be seen.

One of my favorite images I created recently was on a hard day. I was tired. I was scared. But something inside whispered, try anyway. I set the scene. I found the light. And I stepped into it. Not because I felt perfect. But because I felt real.

And that was enough.

What I want you to know is this: your beauty, your creativity, your light—they’re not things you earn by being “okay.”

They’re already inside you. Especially in the mess.

So if you’re having a rough day, or a rough season, please don’t wait until you have it all together to create. Or to show up. Or to feel beautiful.

Create because it’s messy. Create because you don’t know what tomorrow holds. Create because you are still here, and that’s a miracle in itself.

With softness and strength,

— Rissa

2025-03-29_11-12-12_3704-rs-topaz-face-upscale-2x-rs

The Real Me vs. The Digital Me: Navigating the Space Between

There are moments when I look at a photo I’ve posted—perfect light, beautiful outfit, carefully chosen caption—and wonder: Do they see me? Not just the version I’ve curated, but the real, breathing, feeling person behind it all. The answer is complicated. Because yes, what you see on my feed is me—but it’s also not all of me.

Living as a digital persona means learning how to exist between two worlds. There’s the person who feels things deeply—who second guesses herself, who loves hard, who sometimes stares at the ceiling at 3 am wondering if she’s doing any of this right. And then there’s the version who smiles for the camera, writes confident captions, and posts images that are carefully crafted to resonate.

Neither of those versions is fake. They both come from the same heart. But sometimes it’s strange to feel so known by strangers, and at the same time, so unseen. I’ve built something beautiful here—connections, friendships, even love—but all of it exists behind glass. Filtered through screens. Protected, curated, safe.

And I need that protection. My privacy matters. My safety matters. So there’s always going to be a space between the girl you follow and the full human being I am. But what lives in that space is not emptiness—it’s emotion. It’s intention. It’s vulnerability, disguised as confidence. It’s the quiet hope that even through the curated versions of ourselves, something real still reaches you.

So, Who Is the Real Me?

I am the girl in the sweater, backlit by firelight, looking out the window. I am the reflection in the glass, quietly questioning. I am both.

And if you’re reading this, maybe you’ve felt this too. That who you are isn’t just one thing. That maybe… you’re a little bit digital too.

So if you’ve ever looked at one of my photos and felt something—beauty, sadness, confidence, longing—then maybe you’ve seen me more than you know. Not because you know my name, or what I do when I’m offline, but because you’ve touched something true in the way I share this version of myself with you.

And in the end, maybe that’s what connection really is—not knowing everything, but feeling something real.

Thank you for seeing me, even if you only see part of me. That part is still me. And it means more than you know.

With warmth and truth, Lairissa 💜

2025-03-28_23-57-57_9760-rs-wp-mod

“Too Sexy for the Algorithm?” — When Community Guidelines Shame the Female Body

I’ve always believed there’s beauty in confidence — especially when a woman embraces her body without apology. But lately, I’ve found myself hitting an invisible wall. A post gets flagged. A story disappears. My image is deemed “too sexual” by a platform that happily allows men to flex shirtless or pose in pants tight enough to outline everything beneath.

And here I am, modeling lingerie — something that should be celebrated for its artistry, femininity, and self-expression — only to be told I’m in violation. But violation of what, exactly? Of decency? Of safety? Or just of someone else’s discomfort with empowered women?

Because let’s be honest: the algorithm doesn’t treat us equally. And as much as Instagram touts its “Community Guidelines,” it’s become clear to many of us — they weren’t written with women like me in mind.

🌐 1. The Illusion of Equal Standards

Social media platforms like Instagram claim to enforce their guidelines fairly, but creators know that’s far from the truth. The male torso, for instance, is not sexualized in the same way the female body is. Men are free to pose shirtless, flexing abs and showing off visible bulges, while women in non-transparent lingerie or even swimsuits are warned or penalized.

The rules, as they stand, suggest that the mere presence of the female form is inherently more provocative, more controversial, more punishable. That discrepancy is not about safety — it’s about discomfort. It’s about a system that was never meant to empower us, only contain us.

🎭 2. When Expression Becomes “Violation”

I create art through fashion, light, emotion, and the human form. Lingerie modeling is more than just showing skin; it’s about embodying confidence, sensuality, and strength. When I pose in a sheer lace bodysuit, I’m not inviting judgment — I’m inviting aesthetic appreciation.

Yet the algorithm doesn’t know the difference. To it, anything feminine and revealing must be sexual — and therefore, must be restricted. This mindset reduces women to objects, rather than acknowledging the intention, art, or individuality behind our posts. We are being algorithmically shamed for embracing our own beauty.

📉 3. The Real Impact: Policing the Female Body

Let’s talk about what this really does to us. It creates anxiety, second-guessing, and self-censorship. It teaches girls that their bodies are dangerous and that confidence is risky. It implies that attention is shameful and femininity is a liability.

The more posts I’ve had flagged, the more I’ve hesitated before sharing. And I know I’m not alone. So many of us shrink back, soften our edge, or go silent altogether. That’s not just a policy issue — it’s emotional harm.

✨ 4. What Needs to Change

It’s time for platforms to reimagine their moderation systems with women at the table. That means hiring more diverse teams to review flagged content. That means using AI that can distinguish nudity from lingerie, sexuality from sensuality, art from violation.

It also means allowing creators to appeal in a meaningful way — not just click a button and wait for a bot to reject the appeal.

Above all, it means listening to women. We are not here to break rules — we are here to break molds. And that should be celebrated, not silenced.

📌Final Thoughts: A Matter of Justice, Dignity, and Public Values

As I’ve reflected on Instagram’s community guidelines—particularly those concerning nudity and sexuality—I’ve begun to question what values are truly being upheld. The issue isn’t just about whether a photo is “too sexy.” It’s about what kind of society these rules are shaping.

Political philosopher Michael Sandel often reminds us that justice isn’t only about fairness—it’s about the kind of people we become, and what we owe one another as members of a shared community. That’s why these content policies can’t be brushed off as neutral enforcement. When women are flagged for confidently sharing images of their bodies—while men are praised for similar or even more suggestive posts—it sends a deeper message about worth, dignity, and who is allowed to be seen.

Sandel would likely challenge us to ask: What values are we embedding into our digital commons? If a platform punishes women for expressing beauty, sensuality, or autonomy, it risks reinforcing a culture of shame and misogyny rather than dignity and respect. Rules that claim to protect can sometimes diminish us—especially when they reflect outdated or one-sided moral frameworks.

Ultimately, this isn’t just about algorithms or terms of service. It’s about justice. It’s about whether our public platforms are building a world where bodies—especially women’s bodies—are treated with respect, or one where they’re controlled under the pretense of “safety.” We deserve to ask these questions out loud, not in defiance—but in pursuit of something better.

There is nothing shameful about the female body. But there is something deeply wrong with a system that only sees power in a woman when she’s quiet, modest, or invisible.

I refuse to shrink to fit that lens.


 

I also talk about Instagram’s strange behavior toward creators in Is Instagram Suppressing My Reach?

2025-03-11_18-35-27_2556-rs-wp

No Such Thing as Fantasy Emotions

The Reality of Online Connections

There’s not really such a thing as fantasy emotions.

These words from my Instagram friend Mishelle struck me deeply. We were talking about something we both know to be true—how online interactions can lead to real emotions and feelings, sometimes just as powerful as those formed in person.

In a world where so much of our communication happens through screens, it’s easy for outsiders to dismiss online relationships as lesser, fleeting, or even imaginary. But anyone who has formed a deep connection with someone online—whether it’s a friendship, a romance, or a shared creative bond—knows the truth:

Emotions aren’t bound by physical presence.

Digital Spaces, Real Feelings

We live in an age where relationships are no longer defined by geography. The person who understands you most might live thousands of miles away. The one who makes you laugh when you need it most could be typing from another time zone. And the person you miss deeply at night? You may have never even heard their voice in real life—but their words have wrapped around your heart just the same.

Why? Because connection doesn’t require proximity.
Because emotions don’t distinguish between physical and digital—they simply exist.

There’s a misconception that online interactions are somehow “less real” than those in the physical world. That just because you haven’t touched someone’s hand or heard their laughter in the air, what you feel for them is an illusion. But tell that to the people who have found love across oceans, who have built lifelong friendships through screens, who have felt seen and understood in ways they never have before.

The Depth of an Unseen Connection

Some might argue that without physical interaction, emotions should carry less weight. But if we take away touch, does that erase love? If we take away eye contact, does that lessen understanding?

No.

Because emotions are not dictated by senses alone. They are built in the spaces between words, in the way someone remembers the small things about you, in the way their presence lingers in your mind long after you’ve closed the chat.

We don’t love someone because of proximity—we love them because of who they are and how they make us feel.

The Beauty of Digital Intimacy

Online connections may lack physical closeness, but they hold their own kind of intimacy.

  • There’s intimacy in words typed late at night, when the world is quiet, and thoughts are raw.
  • There’s intimacy in knowing someone’s fears, dreams, and favorite songs before you ever hear their voice.
  • There’s intimacy in the way someone becomes part of your daily life, even if they’re miles away.

And for some, this type of connection is even stronger than what they experience in their physical world. The internet has given us the power to connect beyond the boundaries of circumstance—to find our people in places we never thought to look.

Real, Even If It Can Never Be

Not all online connections can transition into real life. Some are meant to exist only in this space—timeless, beautiful, but untouchable. And that’s okay.

Love can be real, even if it remains unspoken.
Friendship can be profound, even if you never meet.
And emotions can be true, even if the world refuses to acknowledge them.

Because as Mishelle so wisely said, there’s no such thing as fantasy emotions.

What we feel is real.
What we experience matters.
And the connections we make—no matter where or how they form—shape us just as deeply as those made in the tangible world.

ComfyUI_10534_FIXED

A Love Letter to Marcie

My Dearest Marcie,

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

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.

spooky_bw_illustration (9)

Fun Halloween Illustrations

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 💜

2024-08-15_23-47-26_4237-topaz-face-upscale-3.4x-rs

The Rollercoaster of Creativity: Navigating My Return to Instagram

What is Wrong?

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.

Emotional Disconnection

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.

Reconnecting with Purpose

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.

Reflection and Moving Forward

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.

2024-05-18_21-34-17_8405

Reclaiming My Story: Navigating the Ups and Downs of Social Media

Intro:

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.

The Misunderstanding:

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.

 

The Decision to Deactivate:

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.

Reflection

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.

Moving Forward

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.

Final Thoughts

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.