Week One of No Facebook and Instagram


I half-joked to a friend that I made the policy decision before I’d really thought through all the ramifications of deleting my Meta social media apps (Facebook and Instagram).

How it happened: A week ago pals staying with us here in Arizona woke up and informed me over coffee steaming in the cold morning air that my personal Instagram was following Trump and Vance’s accounts (I’d followed neither*). A pop-up at the top of their feeds advertised these follows, inviting others to join me.

In that moment I blurted out, “I have to delete my accounts”. I had both a sinking but also rising feeling. The sinking was one of many questions and wishes; concern about the relationships I still hold via those apps and the many memories I still enjoy that pop up through the various photos and posts from many years. The rising feeling was that motivator for the change – the realization that I could no longer ignore the fundamental and visceral opposition of my own values to those in charge of the platforms, and that I finally had to do something about it.

Decisiveness feels nice, even when it’s messy. And that’s what this decision is: imperfect, incomplete. I’ll explain:

Since deciding to shut down both my personal and professional Facebook and Instagram accounts, I’ve made a post on both channels about it and communicated personally with some of the people I’ll miss the most. Actually, I individually texted only one person: my stepdaughter. Reesa and I have swapped memes on Instagram and occasionally gotten into deeper, or funny, exchanges on that app for as long as she’s had it. I needed to let her know why I was leaving and share that one of my major hangups about it was losing that method of communication with her. (She, of course, understood. “It’s not a fun place to be right now” she replied).

After a few days checking the apps and responding to comments on my decision to leave, I updated my profile in all of them: “This is an inactive account. Find me on Bluesky at @aharvart”. Then I deleted the apps from my phone.

This is a shift from what I originally set out to do vs what I did: at first, my bold intent was to wholesale delete my accounts. I downloaded all of my data in case I wanted to look up those photos someday that only now exist on the platforms. But when I started more deeply considering the ramifications of my decision, I realized 1) all of my Alli Harvey Art branding and materials, including the Airstream and the round of 500 new business cards I just printed, have my social media handle emblazoned on them, so at least leaving the account up with a way to connect with me was probably prudent, and 2) I still work on occasional communication projects that require a personal Meta account, even if I’m no longer actively using it.

So, I took a breath, gave myself some grace for not following through on my original plan, and decided to delete the apps from my life while still leaving my accounts intact, albeit with the “these aren’t a thing anymore” message in my bio. I suppose this is the “let’s not cut off our nose to spite our face” approach.

And, about a week out from this decision, and a few days without the apps on my phone, here’s what I’m finding:

  • I feel better. I FEEL better! My eyes are glued more to real things: Joshua Tree spiny leaves and mesmerizing patterning, the way water looks as I’m pouring it, words on a page, words in an article. I take in words more wholly and deeply, through conversation or podcasts. My attention is, as I had hoped in leaving Meta, both greater and more grounded. At the end of the day, even when I have gone through the usual rollercoaster defining these times of anger and fear, I feel less confused and conflicted. I feel more like myself; better equipped to respond vs react.
  • My inclination to connect with people individually is stronger, and I’m following through. I gave my friend Bill a long overdue call the other morning as I was just wrapping up a run and still about a mile out from home. It turned out he’d emailed me just moments before. He’d figured I was calling in response to the email; no, I was just thinking of him and finally picked up the phone.
  • I have more energy to do the things I want to do. Instead of flushing my attention into a glowing phone-shaped hole that never quite fully satisfies me but instead dully tantalizes my brain until I feel a kind of sick feeling and click away (only to mindlessly click back in a full 20 seconds later, who else does this?!), I wake up and do…other things. Sure, I’m still on apps: I check Reddit, the Guardian, Bluesky, and the New Yorker. But none of those pull me into a time warp quite like the Meta apps did, and I find myself with energy to write, work, create, and exercise – with time and energy left over for more afterward. It is remarkable. It is maybe life-changing.

And, it’s terrifying. My fear about leaving the apps was enormous. I’m easing into the other side of it, but I have to remind myself and share with you that one short week ago I was still taking stock of what I was sacrificing and it felt, frankly, enormous. How silly it is that I’ve invested so much of my life in these platforms, which is what scares me, but it’s true. I’ve been on Facebook since it was “the” Facebook. I love the memories feature that drudges up snapshots from my days working in the White Mountains as a teenager; of living in Switzerland nearly twenty years ago. I love memes and how they highlight human creativity and irreverence, interpreting and defining culture. I love being passively reminded of people, even those I’ve lost touch with over the years, and being able to “like” or reconnect so readily (even when that feels unnatural, in many ways – is the human brain really designed to track so many connections? …no, no it isn’t). I value the apps for their social organizing potential, if not always follow through. I join pages, groups, events aligned with my values through Meta. I heed and share calls to action and resources; I find nuance and counters to my own views and expand those views by following people I both admire and disagree with. (Yes, I would have continued following the POTUS and VP accounts by way of following both offices, regardless of who leads them – it was the auto-follow I object to, although that ended up being not what happened, see note below).

Most of all, I love connecting with people through those apps. I love seeing the photos, love sharing them and getting feedback and support.

And of course, Meta has been a basis for my communication and relationships when it comes to my art and Alli Harvey Art. Leaving the platform, I feared I’d lose those connections and that method of sharing.

But for me, where decisive change comes in leaves a vacancy for new. And, that means new ways of engaging the world – whether that’s for art, for good (which…is sorely needed right now), or for defense of people who are at the brunt of this Administration (some more prominent than others, but we are all impacted and that is stake enough for each of us to act beyond flimsy and perhaps unrealistic altruism or, worse, guilty “do goodery” savior crap).

I’m so open to ideas for where to focus my attention, what information or, especially leadership to take in, on which platforms. I am all ears – and eyes! – for your suggestions. Please share what is both inspiring and keeping you informed right now!

*Update on my “auto-follows” of Trump and Vance’s accounts: it turns out that this is not what happened. I understood, without looking at it myself, that I was now following both of their separate, personal Instagram accounts. But in actuality I was already following the office of POTUS and VP, which transferred, of course, to the Trump Administration on 1/20. So, it’s not as sinister as I originally thought. That said, the Meta algorithm did promote my following of both accounts in the days following inauguration day to others in my Instagram network. And I’m okay with the perceived-but-not-actual overstep spurring my leaving the platforms, if that was the wake up call I needed about who is actually in charge.

Screenshot of my personal account, aharvshow, following POTUS on Instagram. Again – it’s not what I originally thought, but I’m still glad I made the move.


2 responses to “Week One of No Facebook and Instagram”

  1. You inspire me, Alli, you are courageous, brave, committed, and forward thinking. Not that the action of getting off of meta makes me think of you this way, I’ve always thought of you this way. I’m just reminding me and you of your qualities that I perceive. I know it’s coming I can feel it coming. There are a couple groups that I need to determine how to stay connected to before I make the leap. Or maybe that’s just what I tell myself until I have the huevos to pull the plug I love you I enjoy you I appreciate you. Now back to work for me.
    XX
    JK

    • Joanie, this made my day. I actually thought, you know what, if I never made another damn cent on art it would be worth it just to have made connections with people like you. I feel incredibly lucky. And I completely hear you on how bizarrely difficult it is to make the leap…Meta is practically a communication utility these days, and leaving has real repercussions. Zero judgment on my end for decisions others are making. But I can say from the flip side is it’s real nice over here! Xoxoxo

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