My Algorithm
I’m not comfortable admitting how much time I spend on Instagram. But I just now checked my algorithm, and it said that lately I’m into mindful movement, resistance workouts, and being present.
Okay. That makes me feel a bit better, and it sounds like I’m feeding my head a healthy diet, even if I am spending more time on that app than I would like.
I do like that Instagram is upfront about what they are feeding you, though. I also like that they let me curate my feed.
If I start getting stuff I don’t like (too much politics, for example), I can change it.
So if you, too, would like to know what your algorithm is feeding you on Insta, here’s how to do it:
Press your Profile (that circle in the bottom right with the head in it)
Then press the hamburger icon (those 3 horizontal bars) in the upper right.
That will take you to “Settings and Activity.”
From there, scroll down to “Content Preferences,” then “Your Algorithm.”
From there, you can add what you want to see more of and less of.
It’s probably better to limit your time on the app, or delete it altogether, but if you’re weak like me, at least curate your feed and build in some uplifting things.
Parasocial Relationships
I have a parasocial relationship with Isabel Klee (@simonsits) on Instagram. I wrote extensively about it back in May when Isabel’s book, Dogs, Boys, And Other Things I’ve Cried About, hit the NYTimes Bestseller List. You can read the post here:
A month ago, her beloved dog, Simon, had to be put down, and I know this sounds ridiculous, but Simon’s death hit me hard. It felt like putting my own dog down. I cried a lot. So many tears for a dog I never met, or got to see or pet.
The internet brings a lot of shit into our lives, but it also brings real people living real lives. People who share so much of their lives that you feel you know them. It’s a little like how you feel about and care for some characters in novels, except these online people aren’t fictional characters; they’re real. And their dogs are real. And when their dogs get so sick they have to be put down, these people lay themselves bare and document, for all the world to see, their pain.
And their vulnerability is so brave that it makes me wonder: in their shoes, would I be able to be so open about my pain? And the answer is, oh hell no, because when I am in pain, my instinct is to hide, to crawl into the proverbial hole and die.
But what I learned watching Isabel say goodbye to her precious Simon is that by letting the world watch her suffer, she brought us all together because everyone who has ever loved a pet knows the particular ache of that pain, and it is really deep.
And everyone online who witnessed that pain locked hearts together and cried with Isabel. Strangers, crying over a dog they loved and feeling so deeply for the woman who loved him.
These parasocial relationships are so weirdly real.
So much of the time, the world can feel unreal and alienating, and then, out of the blue, you encounter these weird little pockets of authenticity and sweetness, where people are so openly brave and intimate that strangers all over the world cry together online.
This is what inspired me in August.
Inspiration Location 