I've had a complicated relationship with Instagram for a long time now. If you've been here a while, you've probably noticed (it's hard not to) and for that 'very long time', I blamed my affinity for inconsistency... when really, it was the discomfort of being boxed into something that felt conditional.

If you know me well enough, you know that I don't do well in a box... it's the breaking-out part that's more in-character.

When I first started on Instagram, it felt fairly simple. You posted a photo, wrote a caption, maybe replied to a few comments. It didn't ask much of you beyond that. Anything polished or perfectly curated was something you did if you felt like it, not because some algorithm demanded it.

Somewhere along the way, that all drastically changed.

Instagram stopped being a place where I could share and became a place where I felt like I needed to perform. Authenticity became something that people talked about while doing the exact opposite and relevance became dependant on how quickly you adapted to following trends, new features and how often you showed up doing whatever the platform was pushing that week.

Here's the ugly part about Instagram now: relevance is conditional. If you want to grow... hell, if you just want to maintain, you're expected to constantly update how you show up.

The platform rewards conformity, speed, and constant output and that kind of system demands a level of personal investment that can quietly take over your entire life if you're not careful.

Especially if you already struggle with boundaries. Which I do.

The Trend Problem (Or: Why I'm Consciously Allergic to Bandwagons)

I'm also deeply non-conformist. I don't like trends. I've never enjoyed jumping on them. It's just not who I am (and no judgement for those who love it, more power to you).

For as long as I've been on Instagram, I've felt this low-grade irritation at how often staying relevant requires participating in whatever's trending that week. Reels with specific audio. Challenges. Formats and captions that feel copy-paste but lack substance. All.of.it.

Every time I tried to force myself to do it, it felt like I was sacrificing something I actually value about myself. Something tied to my integrity, maybe. Or just... my personality.

Over time, I started to realise something important: I wasn't struggling with consistency because I lacked discipline. I was struggling because I was constantly negotiating with my own values.

I kept telling myself I just needed to try harder, be more consistent, push through the discomfort when really, I was just gaslighting myself into staying in a space that no longer felt right.

The Moderation, Surveillance, and Quiet Censorship

Instagram's also become increasingly restrictive in ways that are hard to ignore.

You're given more tools, more features, more options but with that comes more surveillance, more moderation, more quiet censorship. You're watched, assessed, ranked and your reach can easily drop without explanation.

It started to feel like being back in school. Constant assessment. Constant evaluation. Always being measured, moderated and "punished" for stepping out of line.

And when you're using the platform for work or content creation as a mother and Muslim woman? That pressure is relentless. It's difficult to show up honestly when parts of who you are already sit at odds with what performs well.

For me, one of the most important parts (besides politics) is faith.

There's a real moral discomfort that comes with trying to navigate religion on a platform built for monetisation. How much can you aestheticize modesty? How many times can you repackage faith before it stops being sincere and at what point does representation turn into capitalising on something sacred?

I don't have neat answers for that. I just know I reached my limit.

Motherhood, Performance, and the Line I Won't Cross

Then there's motherhood.

I've worked in the mom-blogging space long enough to know what it requires. I know how much time it takes to film, edit, script, caption, post, respond, track metrics, reply to messages and maintain visibility.

I know what it asks of families and of children and I suppose with time, and practice, you could find ways to finetune all of that so it becomes easier but I've never been prepared to find that out.

When your weekends are spent capturing life instead of living it, something shifts. When your kids become content, even lovingly framed content, there's a line that gets blurred.

I've had to gracefully remind myself that celebration can be private. My children's childhood doesn't need an unvetted audience. And consent? Digital, permanent consent? That cannot be assumed where it doesn't exist.

Kids don't understand the long-term implications of visibility despite what the gaslighting part of your brain says. Their brains aren't developed for that kind of foresight (this isn't opinion, it's biology). Saying "they're fine with it" doesn't hold much weight when we wouldn't let them consent to other permanent decisions at their age... like taking up smoking or even getting a tattoo.

Being your child's safe space means thinking beyond intention and considering impact and the more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable I became.

What troubles me most is how normalised all of this has become. We're shaping a generation to believe that performance is natural, that being watched is normal, that value comes from engagement metrics.

Harm isn't always loud or immediate. Sometimes it's psychological and sometimes it shows up years later.

Time, Metrics, and What I've Been Losing

And then there's the time.

The sheer amount of time it takes to sustain relevance on Instagram is staggering. Not just the content creation itself, but the maintenance, the constant interaction and the pressure to stay visible.

I suppose it's easier and more enjoyable for some people more than others, I just wasn't one of those people.

The risk you run is turning into metric-obsessed participants in an economy that rewards outrage, waste, and attention at any cost.

That sat heavily with me. It wasn't a risk that I was prepared to take.

I started my Instagram page when my oldest was still a baby. I blinked, and she's almost eight now. When I look back at old posts, I don't remember large parts of that life. Not because nothing happened, but because so much of it was created rather than running organically as a fond memory.

That realisation was frighteningly confronting.

I don't want my life, or my children's lives, to pass by in fragments captured for other people.

What I'm Doing Differently Now...

Eventually, I had to admit the truth: Instagram wasn't the problem by itself. The problem was trying to make it something it no longer is, to me.

Trying to force myself to belong in a space that demands constant performance felt like self-erasure and I think I'm done with that and altogether tired of forcing myself to be something or someone that I am not.

That doesn't mean I'm leaving Instagram. It means I'm changing how I use it.

Instagram is no longer my home, no longer my primary... It's becoming my pinboard.

I'll still show up there, but differently. I'm returning to the basics of why I joined in the first place: posting when I want to, sharing things that interest me like photos, thoughts, surface-level moments, occasional depth, creative writing, projects that excite me... outfits I like but cannot pull off... and just one laughable motherhood catastrophe after another.

No trends. No pressure. No constant output.

Just me showing up as me.

Depth is moving elsewhere.

I'm shifting that work to my newly 'renovated' blog... a space on the internet where I can write freely, without metrics deciding my worth. A space where I can exist without being ranked, punished, or forced into visibility games, where I can choose privacy without consequence and show up as and when I am available without my kids' full lives or faces as a prerequisite.

If you want depth, you'll find it there. If you want lighter content, Instagram will still have that. You get to choose how you engage, or whether you do at all... I want to afford my community the same range and freedoms that I've chosen for myself.

I'm not here to tether anyone or demand attention. Time matters, yours and mine and I'm no longer interested in baiting people into watching, scrolling, or staying longer than they want to.

You can read weekly, monthly, or not at all. You can follow quietly. You can subscribe to what interests you, you can leave. Or only commit to certain parts of 'me'. It's all fine.

This Isn't About Growth. It's About Alignment.

I don't want to keep building communities I eventually abandon because I wasn't being honest with myself about what I could sustain.

I want the right people, not the largest audience and I want to show up in a way that feels sustainable, ethical, and real.

I don't regret starting where I did. Instagram gave me a lot… community, conversations and connection but I do want to get it right going forward.

So this is me choosing how I show up now without performing for approval and without sacrificing parts of myself to stay relevant.

If that resonates with you, I'd love to see you on the blog. If not, I genuinely understand.

Either way... thank you for being here.