10 Things I’ve Learned in 8 Months of Blogging on Instagram

1. Authenticity matters. To me, and to most people on the internet. Whenever I feel like I’ve posted something that isn’t quite true to myself, I feel pretty weirdsies about it, and I think other people feel that way as well. My favorite thing about Instagram (and one of the things that happens to be important to the algorithm as well), is when I share something real that I’m working through or dealing with, and people who I only know online, or who I haven’t talked to in years, reach out to commiserate. It is SUCH a nice reminder of our shared humanity, and is something that usually only happens when I am being wholly and genuinely myself.
2. You can cultivate genuine connections online. When I first started on Instagram and heard other bloggers talking about their “blog friends,” I kind of thought they were faking it. And then I started exploring more accounts that were similar to my own, and actually reaching out and/or engaging with those people, and when they started responding, and engaging back, it was like I suddenly remembered that, like me, none of these people are just squares on the internet: they’re real people, with interests much like my own, who may not be able to get real-life drinks with me on the weekend, but can still be a very real value add to my life.
3. On the other hand, most people don’t have the time or energy to engage on a deep level–and neither do you. Then again, Instagram can be a real time suck. And while I am grateful for the people I have “met,” and the relationships I have built on the platform, it’s important to remember that it can’t take up too much space in your head, or your heart. And, when those internet connections disappear, or disengage for a while, it’s usually far from personal, and more a result of a necessary reprioritization of limited mental and emotional space.
4. You have to put in the work to find your people. You won’t just start an account and meet boatloads of like-minded people overnight. It took me a while (months?) to find people I really connected with on the gram. And then to remember who they were… Be patient, poke around a little, and you’ll find your people.
5. You really do need to stay in your niche(s). People will usually find your account through a single post. So each photo you post should, in some way, relate to the overall message you are trying to convey. While I found this reality very limiting and frustrating at first, it’s actually kind of motivating now. The idea of a “niche” allows me to think about, and narrow down, what, exactly, I am trying to put out into the world, and who, exactly, I hope finds, and connects with it. It has given structure and accountability to my blog, and each of the pieces I write, and has challenged me to do some pretty personal introspection as well.
6. Reciprocated engagement always wins over competition. No one is going to “win” Instagram. Unless, maybe, you were a Bachelor contestant… Lifting others up will always bring you more joy than trying to compete with someone else, so “like” all the pictures, save stuff, share stuff, and build people up. It will come back around to you 10-fold.
7. The algorithm really is that confusing. Do half of my followers even see my posts? What feeds do my stories show up in? Why did that random picture of my dog get so many likes? Ultimately, I don’t recommend wasting your time trying to figure it out because it will likely all change again tomorrow. (But you CAN encourage your friends and followers to like, save and share your stuff, because some combination of that will always help.)
8. Instagram is a photo sharing app–so it kind of needs to look pretty. Sometimes I loathe taking pretty pictures, and “styling” a neat corner of my perpetually messy house. But when you think about how much time the average Instagram user (including YOURSELF) spends looking at your content, you realize why it’s so important for your stuff to be instantly easy on the eye. Even though we all want people to really read and engage with our stuff, the mindless double tap matters too.
9. Sharable content does well (and yes, that can be frustrating). If people laugh at your content, or resonate with your quote, or want to bake your recipe, they’ll probably send it to a friend who wants to do the same. And for those of us who like writing less nicely “packaged” stuff, that can be hard to hear. But it may also be a good reminder to alter your preconceptions about what it means to “do well” on the internet, and whether the number of followers you have really does determine your “success.”
10. Bloggers need to sell you stuff to survive, and it’s hard not to resent that part. Ads never do as well as authentic content. People don’t like to like it because it seems shady. But we also have no problem paying for a newspaper subscription, or cable TV, and we shouldn’t really have a problem “paying” for the content we consume online as well. So if you’re annoyed that the influencer you like is selling you Tide Pods, just like the dang photo and consider it payment for all the other fun stuff they provide you (FOR FREE) every other day of the week.

And On A More Personal Level, Here’s Where My Head’s At Now:

I spent a few hours in the car this past weekend reflecting on what I’ve really enjoyed about my foray into blogging, as well as what I haven’t. To start, I have truly enjoyed having a side project that is wholly my own, during a phase of my life where I feel like I am giving everything to my kids. While I do enjoy involving my kids in a lot of my content (mainly because they’re around…. all day…), the writing, photo-editing, and “marketing” pieces allow me to exercise the parts of my brain, and my selfhood, that I otherwise wouldn’t during a typical day at home.

When reflecting on the bits and pieces of this blog (and Instagram) that have been the most valuable to me, I realized that what I enjoy writing about the most are the parts of my motherhood journey that have confused, and challenged me, and, in some cases, continue to do so. I love writing about the bits of advice I have received over the past few years, and then actually hearing that it helped one of YOU as well. I adore finding something in a storybook that challenges me to reexamine a part of myself, or my values system, or my parenting style, and then working out how to act on that realization through my writing.

Overall, I think future me is going to be very grateful that I have a record of this time in my life, the struggles I faced and overcame, and the books my kids and I enjoyed together. I hope that I will look back on what I’ve written in years to come and find some sense of peace in how much I’ve learned, grown and changed.

However, there’s also some stuff I haven’t loved about putting these pieces of myself online. For one thing, the blog and Instagram world is insanely oversaturated. Success in Instagram depends on the “shareability” of your content, and I haven’t been great at finding a consistent way make my content fit that mold, while also staying true to myself. I often find myself waffling back and forth between wanting to “fit the mold,” and staying dedicated to “doing it for me.” And I think it probably shows sometimes.

Before beginning the Instagram part of my blogging journey, a few people warned me about the angst the “algorithm” would inevitably cause me, as well as the time investment required to be truly successful on the platform. At that point in time, I didn’t really care if I was “successful” or not (I was just really bored), so I didn’t pay much attention to this advice.

But I quickly learned that what the behavioral psychologists say is true, and that Instagram does a masterful job of getting you hooked on the platform, and the little oxytocin hit you get when a post “does well.”

Over time, I found myself analyzing the posts that got the most likes, and trying to replicate whatever I thought had contributed to its success. Because of this, I found myself spending a lot more time planning and taking pictures than reading and writing, despite the fact that I had started this project primarily out a desire to do more of the latter.

The engagement piece of Instagram is also pretty tricky. If you’re not on the platform in a business way, you may not know that the number of likes, comments, saves and shares really matters when trying to increase your reach or market yourself to potential collaborators. The more time I spent on the platform, I realized that my engagement increased dramatically when I was liking, commenting on, sharing and engaging with more of the other content that was closely related to my niche. And while I have come across some really amazing people and accounts this way, it also meant that I was spending a lot more time on Instagram. Time that I could have spent reading, writing, or nurturing more of my real life relationships.

There have been weeks where I’ve felt really bouyed by the relationships I’ve developed on the gram. It’s allowed me to feel connected during a time when connection seems so elusive, and I can honestly say I’ve developed a handful of internet relationships that I think really could translate into real life ones in the future.

But there have also been a lot of weeks where I’ve felt invisible, or annoyed, or just plain sick of being online. There have been times when I’ve wondered whether anyone really cares, or if we’re all just running on the same treadmill to nowhere.

And it’s the prevalence of those weeks that have reallly made me take a step back and reevaluate what it is I’m doing on this little corner of the internet, and who I’m doing it for.

Because at the end of the day, I want to read, and write, and have an outlet for the hopes, dreams, frustrations and fears that I’m much better at expressing and working through “on paper” than out loud. I want to read more, and really take the time to think and reflect about what I’ve read. I want to be more intentional in my parenting practices, and the values I am choosing to model for my kids. I want to create a website (and Instagram) that I can look back on and be proud of, and one that I always remember as something that added to my family life, instead of taking away from it.

So what does this mean? Honestly, I’m not sure yet. But I am definitely going to take this “vision” of what I want to get out of this blogging journey (as well as what I want to avoid) and tape it to a corner of my desk in hopes of reminding myself, especially on the days that I allow what’s happening on the internet to make me feel “frustrated” or “less than,” why it is that I’m really here.