Why Instagram content creation made me quit after just 24 hours

Exploring the personal impact of social media overexposure

A few weeks ago, I dove headfirst into the overpopulated ocean of Instagram content creation, armed with a plan to build a stronger audience and attract potential customers for my budding marketing freelancing business. 

The technique felt almost like a hack. As Bill Gates famously said, “Content is king,” and I was about to get crowned. 

Even though I’ve had Instagram since 2011, my relationship with the app was passive. From my followers’ point of view, my presence in their Instagram feed was like an unexpected guest; no one anticipated it, yet the content I posted was always more of the same (mostly pictures of my cat, Meredith).

Through this new project, I aimed to help my Spanish-speaking followers start writing online. After receiving numerous questions about it and noticing most resources were in English, I decided to share my experience and knowledge en español. I intended to combine this with content marketing tips to build a stronger personal brand and promote my freelancing services.

Ka-ching!

To start, I enrolled in an Instagram Reels Challenge, where I would film, edit, and post one Reel a day for ten days. Reels! I'd never posted a video before, so this was unknown territory, but I knew that videos rank higher in users' feeds, so it was a must. It also seemed like an opportunity to improve at video filming and editing.

Planning the first video was exciting (new project!), filming was stressful (why does everything look so yellow?), editing was a nightmare (so many buttons), and finally, posting it led me to wake up multiple times that night with So. Much. Anxiety. 

Dear reader, it was the worst. 

As I was getting ready for bed that day, I got an Instagram notification because my Reel had “more than 500 views.” I was supposed to be happy about that, but I felt like Jake Peralta when he learned he was going to prison after being framed: 

I opened the app and felt the notifications icon screaming at me: “YOU GOT NOTICED!” The avalanche of messages was something entirely new to me. Some acquaintances, friends, and family members encouraged me in this “journey” (why does everything have to be a journey?), and others were interested in writing online and “wanted to know more.” 

The response was better than I imagined. If I were testing a market, my value proposal would have been approved ✅ 

Yet, it felt so unnatural. Every view, like, and comment magnified my sense of vulnerability. The excitement about planning my content quickly morphed into a gnawing insecurity. I felt anxious and exposed. Had I invited the world to scrutinize a very personal part of myself, such as my writing?

The following day, I woke up at 5:00 AM with anxiety due to the damn Instagram notifications. Imagine if we received metrics like "your reel has more than 500 views" in our everyday lives. It would be like getting notifications that say:

"20 people overheard your conversation in the coffee shop."

"Your sneeze startled 15 people in the library."

"8 people in the supermarket inspected your grocery cart."

"Your outfit was noticed by 150 people while walking to work."

"10 people at the gym watched your workout routine."

It's absurd. Why do people want to display themselves in front of strangers? Why do people enjoy it? Why is having more followers often seen as being better at social media? Why did I hit "post" on that Reel from hell?

Suddenly, an interesting quote I’d highlighted while reading the book I’m a Fan by Sheena Patel came to mind¹:

“Are the cravings for a fanbase an expression of how politically powerless we really feel? Or is it something else entirely? Though we insist we are Socialist and Marxist in our ideals, is social media and our pursuit for fame within this structure not the purest expression of individualistic, Thatcherite neo-colonial politics where we transform into scripted individual brands, launching ourselves like start-up companies while masquerading as being ‘in service’ to our ‘communities’ by ‘taking up space’ as if by being true to ourselves, we’re doing everyone else a massive favor?”

My political leanings do not lean to the left, but this quote struck a chord with me. Do some people crave a “fanbase”? My brief stint as a content creator made me confront this uncomfortable truth. Despite my good intentions, self-promotion felt oddly performative, as if I was selling a version of myself rather than sharing genuine value.

While sharing content on social media, my goal was to invite others to write online and build a brand for myself that would help me get clients. However, If I kept my plan as it was, I would be showcasing a curated, polished version of myself, which felt inauthentic and uncomfortable. Plus, I did not like the other elements that this entailed, such as the exposure. 

So, I quit after that first day.

It’s wild how something I enjoy and do for a living, like content marketing (which involves content creation), can turn into an anxiety-inducing beast when you add the personal element—aka marketing yourself. 

Overexposure plus constant metrics and notifications are like a double shot of espresso for your anxiety. I don’t know how people who live off social media manage to stay sane—hats off to them.

Social media can be both a powerful tool for connection and a source of immense pressure and stress. Because of this, I think it's very important to find a platform that aligns with my personal comfort and expression style.

Instagram? Not my jam. But Substack? Absolutely. It fits like a glove with my comfort and authenticity. Sharing my essays here brings me joy, and I look forward to hearing what my friends and subscribers think. This platform proves that you can have meaningful engagement without sacrificing your mental well-being.

I'm proud that I gave Instagram a shot, and even prouder, I recognized my discomfort and acted on it. Now, I’ve got a fresh perspective on social media, but that’s a tale for another day.

I’m late to the party, but I’ve realized that most Substack writers have already found their perfect medium for expression without falling into the trap of overexposure.

So, I’ll keep sharing here, balancing creativity with personal comfort and enjoying the ride. After all, why stress over followers when you can savor a well-crafted sentence?

—Catalina

1. Regarding "I'm a Fan," I didn’t enjoy the story, but I did find the social commentary interesting.