I used to love Instagram. Amid the family politics and local gossip of Facebook and the unpredictable snark of Twitter, my little private Instagram account felt like a pleasant place to be. It’s still the only social media app I use with any regularity. But lately, I’ve been trying to extricate myself from its surprisingly tight grip. My muscle memory still goes to press the icon when I’m on the train, with no signal, but my brain has started to wonder why. Why keep checking this when it’s unlikely to have changed from when I last checked it, two minutes ago? And there’s a quieter voice too, more frank and ashamed: why am I still looking at something that has a tendency to make not just me, but plenty of people I know, feel bad about our own lives?
For those who use comparisons as a stick to beat themselves up with, this is a step in the right direction
Continue reading...from The Guardian http://bit.ly/2VCJtHb
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