I made the Biggest Social Experiment of my Life - I Quit Instagram

TL;DR

Delete the app. Touch some grass. Text humans you actually like. Your brain will send you a thankyou card.

Two years later, I can confirm: you’re not missing out. You’re just finally living life without caring about what others are doing. And honestly? That feels insaneeeee in the best way.

Instagram made me smarter, calmer, and infinitely happier.

And McDonald’s salads are health food. on a serious note

What Instagram actually did was fry my attention span, pump fake shit into my head, and convince me that watching a stranger’s Bali vacation was somehow the missing puzzle piece in my Tuesday afternoon. Spoiler: it wasn’t.

So I deleted it. No detox weekend, no “DM me if you need me,” no soft launch of my disappearance. Just delete → gone. And here’s the kicker: the world didn’t collapse. Nothing broke. In fact, it got… suspiciously better.

Every morning used to start like this: alarm → Instagram → scroll → lose 30 minutes of my life to memes, reels, and people I didn’t even like. Multiply that by weeks and months. That wasn’t “keeping up with friends,” it was dopamine roulette.

Then one day, I just nuked it.

The first week was brutal. Phantom swiping, opening my phone and my thumb auto‑piloting toward an app that wasn’t even there anymore. Like a nicotine addict searching for a lighter in an empty pocket. Withdrawal is real. But then something unexpected happened… I didn’t die.

Mental Health Shifts

The first upgrade? My anxiety levels dropped like Instagram’s originality. That constant buzz of checking notifications? Gone. No more itchy feeling of “Did someone like my post? Did I miss a story?” The hamster wheel just stopped.

And listen, even if you don’t have the guts to quit completely, do yourself a favor:

• Mute notifications. Trust me, your brain will thank you.
• Unfollow dead weight. Influencers, promoters, that one celebrity whose life you don’t actually care about — why are they in your feed? Follow people who actually make you feel something other than envy or irritation.

When I was still hanging around, I hacked the algorithm. Every time a brain‑rot reel popped up, I smashed “Not interested.” Eventually my feed was just design drops, cool cars, software news — the stuff I chose to care about. Basically, I trained my own pet algorithm instead of letting it eat me alive.

Productivity & Attention

Here’s the real mind‑blow: I could actually sit and read again. Like, open a book and smash through 10–15 pages without checking my phone. That sounds normal, right? Wrong. Most people I know can’t even read two paragraphs without looking for the dopamine drip.

I’ve literally seen friends read half a page, get a WhatsApp ping, and immediately vanish into notification limbo. Focus? Gone. Deep work? Dead.

Since quitting Insta, my attention span went from “goldfish” back to “functioning human.” My brain stopped feeling like 57 browser tabs screaming at once.

Social Relationships

And here’s the wild twist: the people who actually matter? They’ll still reach you. WhatsApp exists. Telegram exists. Hell, text messages still exist (ask your parents).

I realized most of my “connections” were just reel‑trading partnerships. “Haha, look at this meme” — repeat 47 times. That’s not friendship. That’s co‑scrolling.

The moment Instagram vanished, the real conversations came back: “Hey, how are you?” instead of “lol check this dance.” Shocker: people actually have lives outside reels.

Escaping the Comparison Game

Here’s the other poison Instagram feeds you: comparison. The endless “who’s doing what, and why aren’t you?”

Someone goes to a concert → posts stories → you suddenly feel like your Tuesday was worthless. I’ve literally watched friends go to trending places they didn’t even like just because someone else posted it. That’s not fun, that’s peer‑pressured tourism.

The moment you stop caring about random highlight reels, you stop playing that stupid comparison Olympics. Coffee suddenly tastes better when it isn’t competing with some influencer’s overpriced latte art.

What I Don’t Miss

• “Yes, please, show me your smoothie bowl. It’s vital for my survival.”
• “Wow, another sunset with the caption ‘grateful ✨’. Revolutionary.”
• “Because obviously, watching 47 people do the exact same TikTok dance will change my worldview.”

Instagram is basically junk food for the brain. It’s tasty for 3 seconds, then leaves you bloated, cranky, and asking why you ever ate it.

A Clearer Mind

You know what’s underrated? Waking up without instantly flooding your brain with reels. Most people burn through their dopamine reserves before breakfast. By 9 AM, they’ve already wasted their day’s excitement on cat videos and strangers’ vacation shots.

When you cut that out, mornings actually feel exciting again. My brain stopped running on empty, and my daily routine didn’t feel like chewing cardboard.

Advice If You’re Scared to Quit

Okay, so quitting cold turkey might sound insaneeee to you. Fine. Start small:

• Mute notifications. It’s half the battle.
• Weekend detox. Uninstall for 2–3 days and see how you feel.
• App blockers. Use Opal or OneSec to literally stop yourself from doom‑scrolling.

Stick with it for 2–3 months and you’ll forget you ever cared. By six months, Instagram feels like a bad ex. By two years? You’ll laugh that you ever gave it that much power.

The Counterpoint (And Why It’s Weak)

But wait — what about networking? What about keeping in touch?

Here’s my hot take: those excuses are crap. Real friends will text you. Real networking happens on LinkedIn, email, or (shocking) face‑to‑face. And if you rely on Instagram stories for “keeping in touch”? You were never actually in touch to begin with.

The idea that you need Instagram to have a social life is the biggest scam Silicon Valley ever sold us.