In the spirit of Lent, and having finally acknowledged my unhealthy dependence on my phone, I recently chose to give up Instagram for a week. Now, this certainly was not a life-changing revelation, but it was an issue I had willingly turned a blind eye to for far too long – my primary concern being the impact it was having on my academic productivity. When trying to focus, I’d easily give in to repeated notification checks, as if I was expecting major breaking news to be announced (aka someone liking the Insta story I had spent half an hour picking out a song for). I had tried and tested the likes of Do Not Disturb and facing my phone screen down, yet nothing seemed to be able to break the apparent gravitational pull I had to Instagram. Worryingly, I was also unflinchingly loyal to the alleged universal rule that I couldn’t resume my work at, for example, 11:28 and had to wait until the clock struck the much more satisfying 11:30. It will not surprise you that I’d also conveniently miss this supposed cut-off and would be stuck scrolling again until 11:35. So, I accepted that it was time to deal with this issue, once and for all, with a week-long ban on Instagram.

“Going full cold turkey on all social media was unrealistic”

Though this digital detox felt well overdue, I had to be realistic and recognise that going full cold turkey on all social media was unrealistic and, frankly, just the thought of it was quite harrowing. As a first step, I accepted the challenge of abstaining from my daily consumption of reels and stories for seven days.

To my own surprise, I found the first few days fairly easy with a pleasant absence of any strong withdrawal symptoms. Nonetheless, I will admit that there were some hiccups along the way. On one particularly desperate occasion, muscle memory got the best of me and I subconsciously ripped my boyfriend’s phone out of his hands as he was showing me a post from the Revs Instagram page, and manically scrolled through post after post – as if I’d been withheld a basic physiological need from Maslow’s hierarchy. While I promise I am now a retired Wevs attendee, it was shocking how easily I could slip back into my old ways and become glued to their Instagram page. It was only when the weekend came around that I found the ban a greater struggle, though, and the fact that my camera roll gained a hundred mood-lighting, berlioz-esque bar pics on the Saturday night – which were desperate to make it onto my story – certainly played a part in this temptation.

Ultimately, despite a few wobbles, I remained strong and just about made it to Monday morning. But while the overall experience turned out to be less challenging than I initially anticipated, I can recognise that the impact of deleting Instagram was likely softened by the existence of other social media platforms for me to turn to. And seeing myself frequently checking my Strava For You page in a rather pathetic attempt to replace the high I get from Instagram has to be an all-time low.

I must admit, however, that my post-detox binge was an unfortunately unsatisfying one, and I spent an hour lying in bed scrolling, catching up and curating story posts for halfway hall – capturing both a lovely evening and a horrifying reality. Although I will also admit that, while writing this, I did find my way back onto Instagram to upload the cosy bar photo from the weekend – clearly, I have yet to fully outgrow my procrastinating roots.

“Frequently checking my Strava For You page in a rather pathetic attempt to replace the high I get from Instagram has to be an all-time low”

I never expected some magical transformation from this self-imposed ban; habits take time to break and while the week-long detox was insightful, it couldn’t instantly remedy my phone-related tendencies. But, on a positive note, ever since my noble quest ended I have yet to go down another major Instagram rabbit hole – a staggering success in my books, especially given that this ban took place during the trenches of Week Five.

Social media obviously has its negatives, but you can’t deny the role it plays in student culture in Cambridge – whether it be through termly photo dumps, which seem to be a uni right of passage, or discussions on Camfess. And personally, I love to curate my Instagram page as a sort of digital diary of cute highlights. While emphasis should be placed on the fact these are only highlights, aesthetically laying out my favourite moments with friends with massively overthought yet anticlimactic captions on Instagram is something I genuinely enjoy. When life gets stressful, the occasional cheeky self-stalk reminds me of the fun moments still to look forward to.

So, although I have unexpectedly enjoyed this experience, and have had the added benefit of making it my entire personality for the week, it will take a lot more persuading for me to even entertain the idea of a TikTok detox.