This isn't another lecture about self-love, beauty standards, or deleting social media to become a better person. We have heard that one already, preferably from someone with flawless skin and a custom Birkin.

This is about something subtler: how Instagram quietly turns everyday behaviour into a performance, and how much of ourselves we casually give away while thinking we are just scrolling.

Yes, social media can be harmful for your mental health. Boom. Groundbreaking. Wow. You have never heard of that.

I can already see the scepticism on your face as I am writing this, but let me explain. I am not talking only about the disturbing feeling of underachievement or impossible beauty standards. I want to talk about Instagram itself. More precisely, its algorithms, its hunger for engagement, and its rather relaxed attitude towards our privacy.

Instagram is no longer just a place where you look at things. It is a place where you are being watched looking at things. And once you notice that, scrolling stops feeling harmless and starts feeling a little… managed.

So no, this isn't about quitting Instagram. It is about cutting it down to size.

Being old enough to remember the launch of Instagram, I clearly recall that it started as a sort of public photo album. Back in 2010 (yes, really), it was an app with cool filters. And yes, Gen Z, we genuinely enjoyed Lo-Fi.

Since then, Instagram has transformed into a giant digital dream factory where everyone is leaner, funnier, smarter, and significantly richer than you. Many words have been said about how to reduce its impact, but I can still tell you this: you will be triggered at times unless you switch it off completely. And that is normal. We all feel envy sometimes.

We can still be fooled by a perfect picture even when an influencer shares the horrible details of her seemingly flawless relationship. Somehow she is crying under perfectly matched light, with the cutest puffiness, instead of the swollen mystery that looks back at me from the mirror every other morning.

The solution here is refreshingly simple: cut it.

If you are following someone stunning and consistently end up feeling empty, doubting your life choices, and questioning every decision you have made since 2016, press unfollow. I am no less than Shia LaBeouf here: just do it. FOMO doesn't hit as hard as you believe it could, I promise, and you won't remember another perfectly symmetrical face within a few days.

What concerns me even more than the infinite scroll of happy faces is the fact that Instagram occasionally behaves like a whistleblower.

I enjoy watching reels and normally don't hesitate to like them. But once I realised that my followers can see the content I like, it became slightly disturbing. On the one hand, I often receive compliments from friends and colleagues who tell me, “When I see Dara’s like, I know it will be funny.” This gives me a solid +100 to my sense of humour.

On the other hand, there are reels that very much belong in the guilty pleasure category. Job-related content, stupid dance videos done by hot guys, or sensitive posts with dark humour. In these cases, I hesitate. Instead of liking, I share the reel privately with a group chat, remaining anonymous to my followers.

I am not an influencer and don't have to curate a public persona for 100k people.

Still, I regularly see comments like, “I hope my mother-in-law does not see my like here,” or “Dear husband, I liked this because it is funny, not because I relate.”

The problem is that Instagram reality reflects our personality only to a certain extent. A like on a dark humour post doesn't mean you approve of discrimination. It means you understand context and find things funny. These aren't the same thing.

The way out?

You can hide this information in your settings.

Turn off the Friends tab for Reels:

Go to Profile > Menu > Settings and activity > Activity > Friends tab, and set “Who can see your likes and comments” to “No one”.

And please be careful with the repost button. It can lead to confusing situations, especially if you manage any official accounts. Chaos has started over less.

Every new feature on Instagram is introduced to keep you on the app for as long as possible. Engagement is king. Sometimes it feels nice to see that a slightly cringe reel you liked was also approved by people you follow, and you can casually reference it in small talk later.

Personally, I value my privacy more. I also don't want to become dependent on other people’s opinions. Which brings me neatly to the next point.

Yes, New Year’s resolutions are somewhat a trick. But if you, like me, have been thinking about improving focus, increasing effectiveness, and breaking up with fast dopamine, January 1 might be a perfectly reasonable starting point.

Hide your likes. Set a daily time limit and actually respect it. The reels your friends have sent you aren't going anywhere.

Another habit that works surprisingly well is noticing the moments when you automatically open the app. Are you bored? Tired? Slightly anxious?

The urge to consume endless cat videos often points to underlying needs that get ignored in daily life. We all need to unwind, but too much entertaining content leads to more fatigue and can even cause sleep problems, according to research.

Watching an episode or two (or even a full season, let us be honest) of a stupid TV show is one thing. Shout out to Emily in Paris. Spending hours doomscrolling is another, and it is far more dangerous.

I don't want my next year to be filled with anxiety, poor sleep, and the constant feeling of not being enough for a shiny online reality. Here is to real-life experiences, deep conversations, and goals that are actually yours.

The cost is low. Your favourite blogger will survive if you miss their gender party, and your friends will still know you have a perfect sense of humour even if they don't see your likes on another brain-rot video.

Less scrolling. More living. Sounds radical, I know.