45. Why Do We Internet?
What brings and keeps you online in 2026?
It’s a question I’ve thought about since 2012, the date of my first Instagram post:
Actually, looking back, I was blissfully ignorant or certainly far less self-conscious about using social media back then, as evidenced by the rows of gritty photos and one-line nonsense captions I posted :)
Things started to shift sometime around 2017, when influencer culture became a real thing in my world. I’m sure this “shift” seemed like a bigger deal to me, a millennial working in media, than it actually was outside of this self-important bubble I inhabited.
Suddenly, everything needed to look more cohesive and curated. I played along for a while, but ultimately, it never felt fully authentic to me, so I stopped. My favorite part of the entire experiment was the time I spent frolicking around the city with my friend, Katie. It became another way for us to explore New York together, and I always loved seeing things through her lens.
In the intervening years, a lot of life happened.
The super condensed version of these chapters went something like this: work, illness, grief, near-breakup, work, illness, grief, near-breakup, work, pandemic, pause, actual breakup, grief, move to new city, grief, adjust, joy, work, burnout, grief, sabbatical » now, figuring out how to work and live in a new capacity, between countries, as a semi-changed person with many of the same sensitivities and fears.
How do you capture your messy reality without flattening it? You can’t, so you don’t. Or you overthink things until the moment has passed, and then you don’t.
Still, I’ve tried with my earnest captions that are probably too long and too gooey. Sometimes it feels almost adequate, and by that I mean it feels honest to whatever it is I’m wanting to share in that moment.
In 2026, Instagram is a place for me to keep in touch with the various communities I’m part of, which has increasingly expanded and splintered in ways that feel unmanageable at times. It’s also become a mini portfolio for my work—which, surprise, I feel conflicted about—and it’s a place to document my dance journey and adventures in Seoul and Los Angeles.
Sometimes it’s fun.
More often, it feels shallow and fleeting.
It’s most disorienting when you go to post something, and you suddenly become aware that you’re performing a moment rather than living it. You know what I mean? You zoom out and see yourself from a bird’s eye view, and you’re this small, silly speck of a human doing this small, silly act, and it’s embarrassing to realize this.
It’s why I mostly post latergrams; it’s my attempt at trying to stay in the moment, though the mere fact that I’m capturing it at all means I’m not fully present.
When I see something beautiful, funny, or delightfully strange, I want to share it, in case it brings someone else the same momentary joy.
When I feel burdened by my thoughts or riddled with anxieties and self-doubt, I want to share them, in case it brings someone else a shred of comfort or self-compassion.
And lest you think for a second that I’m purely acting out of altruism, posting also helps me find and get work opportunities, which I need to survive as a freelancer.
For these reasons and probably a few more I have yet to overthink, I can’t seem to quit this corner of the Internet.
Anyway, what’s my point in saying all of this to you now?
Great question.
I’m not entirely sure, but it’s at least partly a practice of getting more comfortable with sharing the messy interior of my mind. Because even as I cringe and complain, there is always a part of me that wants to share my life with people—or at least some of it. It’s how I make sense of the world, and how I stay connected.
What about you?
Why do you use Instagram in 2026? Do you enjoy it more or less than before?
Do you overthink how much or what to share?
I’d love to know because clearly I don’t have the answers!
And with that plea for help, I will go put on proper pants, finish my coffee, and start my workday. But before I go…
Wherever you’re reading this from, whatever state of mind you’re in, whatever mood you’re currently in, I wish you a moment of calm and peace, and perhaps even joy and wonder. Because even with the state of the world, and even in the messy middle, we’re here breathing and reading these words together. We are alive, and we get another chance at another day, and that isn’t nothing.
With love,
Jenny