so feral instagram SUSPENDED me
Ah, Tuesday evening, just as I was packing up my sanctuary of chaos (otherwise known as my laptop and my eclectic collection of drink bottles: water, kombucha, chai tea – the holy trinity), I decided to grace Instagram with my presence.
My post that day?
Nothing groundbreaking.
Just another installment of my “My Morning” series. You know, the one where I show how my mornings are as wild and unpredictable as a feral cat in a thunderstorm. That day’s image was an ‘I Voted’ sticker. Why? Because, 1. I actually did vote, and 2. It featured the most adorable Gila Monster (side note: Isn’t it hilariously ironic that a voting sticker features a venomous creature? Politics, am I right?). My morning was simple: meditation, cacao, journaling, and maybe, just maybe, I managed to shower. Then, I posted my “Song to Get FERAL To” – Shaggy’s Mr. Boombastic, a timeless anthem for the ratchet at heart. I popped in a little later that day to promoted an event from my office – a photography session and email signature popup. Scandalous, I know.
Fast forward to me winding down my day, eager for a casual scroll, only to be met with a big black screen announcing my suspension from Instagram.
WHAT? For WHY?
In a moment of sheer disbelief, I hit APPEAL. I didn’t even read the reason. Now, whenever I open Instagram, I’m greeted by a note saying, “You submitted an appeal on July 9, 2024.”
Day 2 of this digital exile, and I’m still in the dark.
I wish I could say I had a perfectly normal reaction to this, but in reality my first gut response was, “OH! I did something wrong… I disappointed someone… I am in trouble.” For a split second, I immediately was worried that everyone would know and I was going to some sort of Internet Jail… those exist right?
My body responded in the same way it did when I got pulled over for the first time (ironically I was driving home from voting in my first presidential election… so maybe politics is the theme here). My body, shaking, involuntarily shaking - now this only lasted maybe 30-60seconds, but I still had to sit for a moment and reflect.
Why did I revert back to a child?
Were my parents really going to be that disappointed in me because Instagram suspended me? Do they even know what Instagram is?
Also, WHY? Who could I have possibly offended? Am I mad at them or feel for them… yes and yes!
Next came the dilemma:
Do I tell people? Will they understand? Will they judge me?
A wave of shame washed over me. In the end, I told a few trusted souls. Their reactions were predictably, “WTF?” followed by, “WHY?”
I must have checked my account at least 8-10 times that night. Still suspended.
In the morning when I woke up. Right before I left for the office. Still suspended.
At work. Before my Turn Up class. Before my epsom salt bath. Still suspended.
As I write this, my Instagram fate remains undecided. But guess what? This whole ordeal has been enlightening.
Here’s what I’ve learned since being ousted from the cool kids club:
I use my phone a lot less. Turned out any time I picked up my phone, which was a lot, my immediate, mindless action was to do a scroll through Instagram.
I use Instagram to connect with friends more than any other app. It’s almost like I forgot my phone could also make PHONE calls. (A fact my husband never tires of reminding me.)
I launched FERAL about 6 months ago, relying on Instagram for all things marketing. Oops. These platforms are so fragile and can vanish anytime. What then?
I have two FERAL popups coming up. How will I spread the word? Turns out, creativity is my true superpower, not social media posting.
And finally, no one cares.
GET FERAL
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GET FERAL 〰️
FERAL: THE WILD WOMAN
JULY 25TH • 6:15PM
The Wild Woman Feral Experience is just that. WILD. Untamed. Raw. Through breath, voice and body — it's a journey of exploration where we confront our inner battles and let out our fiercest cries.
Moments after I pushed PUBLISH, Instagram reached out to let me know they had made a mistake and my account had been reinstated.
Bets on if these lessons bear fruit?
