Is It Just Me? Or Is Instagram Getting a Bit Mean Girls?

Is It Just Me?

Surely it’s not just me?

I know it’s not. I see other people like me on Instagram—creatives, small business owners—feeling disheartened and deflated. And yet, I still feel silly for even feeling this way. After all, it’s just a social media app, right? Chasing likes from strangers. Seeking validation. Clout. Why does it get to me? But some days…it really does.

As a small creative business owner, it’s a tricky balance. In an ideal world, I’d be making art all day—sketching, screen printing—and not giving a second thought to putting myself out there online. When I started, it was exciting to grow my audience, to see the response to my work, and yes, the sales that followed. Instagram was a lifeline for my little business. Showing up in those tiny squares was how I built what I have.

But is it just me, or is it getting harder? And meaner?

Lately, I’ve found myself second-guessing everything I post. I worry about saying the wrong thing, about being “too political” or not political enough. I wonder if showing any form of privilege is insensitive. I hesitate to show my face or speak on stories in case strangers pull apart my appearance. And as someone who’s naturally an over-sharer—and who probably built a following by just being myself—I now feel like I’ve lost a bit of that spark.

My feed has become…sterile. Less fun. Less me.

I do still share my pets—because that feels safe. But I can’t help wondering: when did it get like this?

I still enjoy watching people on Instagram. I follow all sorts: home cooks, gardeners, interior accounts, indie shops, fashion creators. And the ones I love the most? The ones who show up, chat away, warts and all—unfiltered and imperfect. But then I scroll down to the comments and see the nastiness—people being criticised for parenting, for how they cook, for having dirt under their nails. It fills me with dread.

I can’t imagine making a horrible comment on someone else’s post. Why do people feel the need to? And yet, it seems to be the norm now. Often it’s from people with “Be Kind” in their bios, saying awful things about someone else’s appearance—or worse, their child.

I tell myself: grow a thicker skin. But it still gets to me.

Thankfully, I don’t have a big enough audience to attract too many trolls (and I play it very safe these days). But I remember once, when my “Don’t Be a Dick” print made the cover of a local paper, I got a horrible email pulling me and my work apart.

Mostly, though, it’s the quiet rejection that gets me. The follower count going down after I post. I tell myself not to care—but I do. It feels personal, even when I know it isn’t. I wonder, Was it my art? The chicken on the kitchen table? Just…me?

It’s starting to feel a bit like Mean Girls: You can’t sit with us.

Truthfully, I rarely unfollow people. Sometimes I don’t even love their content, but if they’re a small creator like me, I want to support them. The only times I’ve really unfollowed are when someone has announced they’re closing their business (and sadly, I’ve seen a lot of that this year)… or when someone has passed away.

That’s always strange. Some of the creators I followed for years—chatting on stories, sharing their lives—felt like friends. I still think about Emily Hartbridge. I was so used to seeing her face and hearing her voice every day. I still follow her sisters, just to know they’re okay. I never met her, but I felt like I knew her. That’s the weird intimacy of social media, isn’t it?

But I guess what I’m trying to say is: when people unfollow after I post, how can that not feel like a reflection of me? And how do you grow thick enough skin to keep showing up? To keep welcoming people into this tiny snapshot of your life?

I know, deep down, that authenticity is what makes people connect. It’s what made my account grow in the first place. But with things feeling harsher, scarier, more judgmental—I hesitate. I look at influencers and creators who lay it all bare, and honestly, I don’t envy them.

For now, I’m just trying to get back to what I love: the art. The sketching. The screen printing. And not worry too much about the social side. But the hard truth is, when I don’t show up online, I don’t make sales. My business suffers.

I’ve applied for “proper” jobs this past year—full-time ones. I didn’t get one I was really hopeful about. Now I’m considering part-time work alongside my art. I don’t want to stop. But things are hard. Really hard.

I see other artists just barely hanging on. We’re all struggling. Costs are up—mortgages, rent, food, energy. I don’t buy clothes new anymore (thank goodness for Vinted and charity shops), and I’ve stopped buying art from others because I just can’t justify it right now. I totally get it.

But what I do still try to do is show support. Liking a post. Leaving a comment. It costs nothing, and sometimes that little show of encouragement is enough to keep someone going. To make the day feel just a bit better.