Why Instagram feels like that terrible situationship you just can’t get rid of

That said, complaining about fonts or ratios isn’t trivial or merely an aesthetic gripe. When Instagram unexpectedly takes something away and adds something new, it’s upsetting because it feels like more than a simple interface change. It shakes the stage on which our lives are performed. It reminds us who really holds the reins, making it clear that a multinational technology company is toying with us, just because it can. The real reason Instagram keeps reshaping itself is to pull us in with new features and tools, giving us endless excuses to scroll longer and keep watching. Each feature is insidiously engineered to keep us absorbed and to stoke constant FOMO. The illusion of connection masks the fact that these additions rarely bring anything meaningful.

And yet, despite all this stimulation, all we really want is to genuinely connect with each other. In the post-pandemic era, the thrill of being online has worn off; the novelty of digital intimacy has faded, buried under gimmicky updates and cheap tricks. What largely remains is performance, posturing and metrics we cannot seem to escape. With every upgrade, we are offered more ways to get a quick dopamine hit. But none of them provide give what we really crave—a genuine way to connect that we had before.

As life for many becomes heavier year after year, we long for simpler times. The grass always looks greener in our old Instagram posts. Maybe it’s not just the square photos we miss. We miss an era when the internet was smaller, sillier, cosier, less performative. When the internet felt like home. The real point isn’t the loss of a font or the changing ratios, but the fact that our lives are so deeply entwined with an app that can no longer meaningfully serve us.

This is the paradox: we are growing to resent Instagram, yet leaving feels impossible, because so much of our life is tied to it. So we keep logging in, like we’re trapped in a nasty situationship. We swear we’ve had enough, but we are unable to actually walk away. It keeps changing to manipulate us into deeper engagement, but in the process, it erodes the very thing we came for. Instagram is the bad boyfriend we want to quit. We complain, we threaten to leave, but we still stay. Maybe one day, we’ll finally end it for good.