I am officially done with Instagram. Last night I posted a few things and Instagram decided I looked suspicious enough to require a small citizenship test. First I had to type in a code on the screen, then enter a code sent by text message, then upload a video of myself to prove who I was. It eventually sorted itself out after around forty minutes. Then today I tried to post one single thing and the whole thing started again. No. I am not proving my existence three separate ways and waiting nearly an hour every time I want to post one picture. At this point Instagram and I have moved beyond technical difficulties and entered relationship counselling territory. So I am taking my posts elsewhere. Pinterest is a possibility, although the pictures look annoyingly tiny there. Still, I have posted insane amounts of memes on my personal Pinterest account before, sometimes twenty at a time, and Pinterest has never once appeared with a flashlight demanding photographic evidence to see if I am a real person. So perhaps Pinterest and I simply have better synastry.
Instagram and I clearly do not. Our relationship has been slowly shriveling, and I think I finally understand why. There must be some dreadful Pluto square happening between us. Pluto would certainly explain the power struggles, paranoia, control issues, interrogation tactics, and the feeling – Instagram wants to know where I was last night. Although Saturn is also a strong contender. Saturn loves restrictions, delays, rules, obstacles, blocked access, endless verification, and generally standing at the door with crossed arms asking whether you have filled in the correct paperwork. Either way, the synastry is terrible.
Perhaps my Mercury is square Instagram’s Saturn, so every attempt at communication gets blocked. Perhaps Instagram’s Pluto is doing something to my Mars, turning the innocent act of posting a meme into psychological warfare. I haven’t calculated the chart, although at this stage I hardly need to. The relationship speaks for itself. We have tried. We have struggled. There have been trust issues. There have been boundaries. There have now been demands for video evidence. I think we all know where this is heading. So I am breaking up with Instagram. We are incompatible.
I will remember the good times, the posts, the occasional burst of engagement and likes (thank you to those who followed), and the times before it started treating me like I was attempting to enter a maximum-security facility every time I uploaded a picture. But enough is enough. Instagram, it is not me. It is absolutely you. We are done.