Today, I’ve decided to let go of Instagram.

It’s not a dramatic “goodbye” or a cry for attention — quite the opposite. I’m just… done. Quietly. Without the farewell story. Without needing to explain it to the algorithm.

This year has been different for me. Slower. More intentful. I’ve been living more deliberately, paying closer attention to what truly serves me. And Instagram — as beautiful and useful as it can be — started feeling misaligned with the person I want to become.

Here’s what I realised:

The best people in my life — my closest friends, the ones I’d call at 2am or invite to a birthday weekend — I didn’t meet a single one of them on Instagram. Not one. They came into my life through real moments, mutual friends, shared energy. Not likes or stories.

Yes, Instagram gave me some cool things:

Inspiration. A creative outlet. That nice feeling of being seen.

But it also gave me things I didn’t want:

Comparison. Distraction. That nagging need to check in and check up. The low hum of anxiety that never quite switches off.

I think we’re losing the game, trapped in a conditioned world that gives us nothing but the false belief that we need to be part of it. I bought into that too. The constant updates. The curated sharing. The dopamine highs and quiet little crashes. Always being in the loop, but rarely in the moment.

And when I look at the person I’m becoming — the life I want to live — it just doesn’t fit anymore.

I want presence.
I want simplicity.
I want to feel my own life, not scroll through someone else’s highlight reel.

And the crazy thing? The moment I did it, I felt lighter. Like a quiet little space opened up again in my mind.

I’m not saying this is what everyone should do. I’m just saying this is what I needed.

For now, I’ll still be around — writing here, living out loud, building things that matter to me.

But Instagram… I’m out.

No post. No poll. No goodbye.

Just… space.

Keep creating space.

Chat soon,

Marnus

Big P.S disclaimer. I also realise I might be back in 4 weeks and do a complete 180 — who knows. I’m anxious about not seeing what my friends are up to. I’m anxious about not having a place to share parts of my own life. But I know, for now, it’s not serving me. It’s not serving my higher self. Maybe I’ll come back. Maybe I won’t. Time will tell.