Seven months ago, I stepped away from Instagram.

I made the announcement. Simple, honest, no theatrics. I didn’t feel overwhelmed by likes or validation loops. That was never really the problem. I felt something quieter but more persistent: overstimulation, distraction, and a subtle loss of inner clarity.

Instagram had become noisy. Not toxic. Not dramatic. Just loud. It started to fill the quiet spaces of my life: before coffee, between tasks, during idle moments. It wasn’t that I needed to be seen. I was giving too much attention to things that didn’t matter.

I wanted stillness. I wanted sharper focus. I wanted my rhythm back.

The Tipping Point: Turkana

The real turning point came after a trip to Turkana and northern Kenya. It is a raw, open place where life moves at the pace of nature. There is no Wi-Fi or signal—just dust, wind, and long, wide silences.

I remember standing by the lake one evening as the sun dipped below the horizon. I had no urge to capture it, no reflex to post. Just me, the water, and the quiet.

That experience changed something.

After days of living somewhat off-grid, I returned and opened Instagram. The contrast was immediate: the pace, the curated visuals, the ambient hum of other people’s lives. It all felt artificial—loud, again.

At that moment, it became clear: I was done—at least for a while. I needed to log out and stay out.

What I Found in the Absence

The first week off felt strange. I reached for my phone out of habit, flicking my thumb toward where the app used to be. But once the reflex faded, a kind of quiet set in—and then clarity.

Without Instagram in the background, my mental space opened up. I was less distracted and more present. My mornings slowed down. I could hear myself think again.

I got more done. Not in a hustle way. Just with a cleaner focus. I restructured things that mattered. I got back into deep work, reflection, writing, and systems I’d long wanted to build. My life became more intentional. Less reactive, more designed.

And something else happened: I stopped feeling the need to make moments “shareable.” I let them be just mine. The joy in that privacy was unexpected and powerful.

The Return (But Different)

Now that I’m back, things are different.

I use digital wellness tools like screen time limits and focus settings. I’ve redefined what the app is for. I post more deliberately. I don’t check it first thing. I don’t owe it my attention.

Most of all, I don’t feel like I’m returning to anything. I’ve moved forward, and my relationship with visibility has changed. The break reminded me that some of the best parts of life don’t need an audience. Silence is sometimes the best container for growth.

Coda

I don’t think everyone needs to quit social media, but I do think more of us could use a little distance. We could remember what our minds feel like without the scroll, move through the world without narrating it, live unobserved, and feel whole anyway.

Seven months off gave me that. And I’m holding onto it. Quietly. Steadily.