Calling Something Connection That Isn’t

thinking out loud about faith, social media, and the space in between

I think I’m on my way out of Instagram. I don’t really know how to do it though. I’ve stayed for years, telling myself I was sharing my faith, encouraging women, doing something good. But the truth is, I’ve started to notice the cost. I guess I’ve known it for a while, but I kept looking the other way.

Every time I open it now, it feels like work.

Scrolling makes me angry, irritated, anxious. Occasionally, encouraged I will admit. But my mood seems to shift before I even realize it.

Honestly, I think I’m afraid. Afraid of how disconnected I’ll feel when it’s gone. Afraid of losing touch with conversations that make me feel like I belong. Or maybe not even belong, maybe just that I’m keeping up.

I’ve been calling something connection that isn’t.

I’ve used Instagram to have hard conversations from a distance. To avoid the ones I should have had in real life. That comfort; it’s seductive. It’s corrosive. I’ve avoided conversations I should have had face-to-face. I’ve avoided saying what mattered in real time. And I’ve chipped away at my integrity. I hate that. I really do.

I thought I was staying to connect, to encourage, to be present in a space where faith feels thin.

But it doesn’t really work that way. Connection there is fragile. Curated. Often performative. Friends, followers, it feels real when I log in, but most of it isn’t.

It’s easier to feel like you belong in a feed than in real life. And I’m not sure I even want that kind of belonging.

Instagram has cost me more than time. Attention frays. Patience frays. Peace slips away.

I tell myself I’m doing ministry, sharing truth, building community. But it rewards reaction, not reflection. Reacting is not the same as listening. I know that. I feel that.

I see it in other Christian women too. Hours poured into feeds. Scrolling, comparing. Tired. Distracted. Reactive. The faith that should be forming us gets flattened into content.

And I think maybe I’ve been part of that. Sometimes I feel guilty. Sometimes I don’t.

I want faith that shapes me. I want conversations that last longer than a scroll. I want presence. Time with the people and tasks God has put in front of me.

That’s why I know I need to step back.

Because I can’t ignore the cost anymore. Because I notice what it’s doing to me. To my attention. To my ability to listen. To be present. To speak with integrity. Or maybe just to be quiet sometimes.

I know there will be relief. And FOMO. Both at once.

I want to be shaped by life that’s real, not by a feed. By conversation that takes time, not comments that scroll past. By Scripture that lands in me, not posts I react to. By people I can look in the eye, not pixels I can swipe.

I don’t know exactly what this looks like yet. I don’t have a plan. I’m figuring it out as I go. I’m nervous.

But I feel a quiet weight lifting, a little space to breathe, a chance to notice what actually matters.

I think that maybe enough for now.