I’m still in the middle of an overhaul of this newsletter, but I’m dropping in spontaneously to make a suggestion. It’s unoriginal. It’s uninspiring. And it’s unexciting. Sold, yet?
If you’ve had a tough go of it this year, even a little bit, I’m telling you right now to delete Instagram this week, today would be great. Yes, during the handful of days that include big family get-togethers and traveling and outfits and arguments and so much drinking and so much … everything that would make a perfect Instagram post.
Last year, as the holidays drew closer, I was still burned out and exhausted from my book. And I had a gut feeling that social media was not going to, let’s say, improve things for me. I logged out of Instagram and deleted it from my phone.
Not to be dramatic or anything, but I was pretty sure I’d die if I deleted Instagram. Or at the very least, I’d crack. Never stick to it. But even if I had caved? I mean, who cares?
Instead, sticking with this brief exercise was brain fixing. First, it cleared the clutter in my mind (what to post next! what to take pics of! what caption should I write!) so I was just able to think in a more focused way. It literally freed up my time, so instead of scrolling and scrolling and scrolling, I read and napped and watched movies. It was genuinely restorative. And, given that comparison has been the thief of joy for me so often in my life, not seeing other people’s holidays allowed me to simply enjoy my own, keep my eyes on my own paper if you will.
Until this morning, I completely forgot I had done this. Even yesterday, when I decided suddenly to log out of Instagram and delete it from my phone, it didn’t ring a bell either. And although I’m in a completely different headspace than I was a year ago, the pull was clearly the same.
In the past few weeks I’ve had highs and lows, including deeply emotional moments ranging from Three’s Company-level misunderstandings to unexpectedly crying in so many public places I have lost count. I am so entirely sick of it all. I’ve experienced wave after wave of intensity and whenever I feel like I’ve stabilized, a riptide takes me out again. Frankly, I’m just starting to feel less and less resilient over time. I’ve taken so many hits this year.
Maybe it’s the change of seasons, I don’t know. But I’ve had bouts of loneliness that feel completely new, as my old life and new life continue to pull apart, yet my new life isn’t populated with enough people to keep me company. I’m unsettled in that “I’m going to move in two years but I don’t know where” sort of way. I am ready to go, to start fresh, but can’t. Or I can, but in a limited, short-term way. I want the time that I’m still here in Vermont to be rich and satisfying and happy of course, but sometimes it just isn’t. Often it’s been exhausting. And sometimes it’s just total shit.
The point being, my sense of self-preservation thankfully took over, making me log out and delete. Before that, I kept checking an ex-partner’s Instagram stories, missing him. I kept checking a hopefully future partner’s Instagram stories, wanting him. I kept seeing happy intact families and wondering how full of crap they are (what if they aren’t)? And I decided that this valley I find myself in again — and can’t seem to crawl out of without someone stepping directly on my fingers while wearing steel-toe boots — is definitely not the place nor the time to be scrolling through a glossy horse shit factory.
So if you, like me, have had a challenging year or little peeks of loneliness, experienced broken partnerships or friendships, felt like on one hand you generally like being out of sync with the world but on holidays maybe not so much, please log out and delete whatever social media you use most. You only need to do it for a week. You will feel better come Sunday or next Monday. You will. Maybe you’ll even keep going! I did last year but I doubt I will this year.
You can still take photos, just post them later. You are not missing anything, you really are not. Just try it. And if you feel even remotely better, then you’ll know to do it again around Christmas or New Year’s or Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day. It’s a small little step to take for yourself, no big declarations, just a way to feel better, quieter, more calm. It helps. It really, really, really does. Please trust me. I’m a professional (… idiot).
You can find my books here. You can find my writing here. You can find my copywriting and creative direction work here. You can find me on Twitter (not for long!) You can find me on Instagram (not this week!) Good luck finding me in real life (unless you’re in Chicago!)
I departed all social media a year ago, which for me, meant Facebook and Instagram. I hated the superficiality of facebook and the endless scrolling, and I hated being in the Zuckerberg Empire, which seems evil to me. So Instagram went as collateral damage, although there were a bunch of jazz guys on there whom I follow and respect, who were posting great stuff - stuff that had some meaning. Sorry Wynton, Ron Carter and all the rest.
There's no filling the gaps in social terms - I have no idea which of my music peers are gigging (not much of that these days, anyway), and don't know what my long-lost high school and college classmates are up to. So it goes.
But I did begin reading again, fiction and non-fiction, literary stuff, not potboilers. And that's been spectacular. I'd fallen away from reading books over the years, and wondered how it had happened, and would I ever resume? I spend roughly two hours every morning devouring great writing, and that's as nourishing as anything I can imagine, and waaaay more than social media ever offered to me.
So... good on ya, Kimberly! And remember, as Winnie The Pooh said, "if you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there."
Loved this post and your newsletter. As it is. I’m sure the next iteration will be great too.
I want more stories of your heartbreak and healing. The falling, normalizing the loneliness, the belief that we can create again. I like to hear you are connecting with your desire, within self and lovers. Cause I’m in the “betwixt and between” space too. Also “two years here” then off to somewhere, as yet unknown.
Instagram always feels like Times Square to me, so like any good New Yorker, I avoid it. But Fb can be a sneaky drug that triggers despair, and I will delete it.
Wishing you a good holiday. It’s my first without spouse and kids. I’m going to Northampton where I’ll stay with my best gay boyfriend who has disco lights in almost every room 🪩 so a dance party is promised!
And I know there will be waves of grief. When they’ll come, 🤷🏻♀️?
Tissues in hand, dancing shoes packed, onward.