The internet doesn't want what's best for you

How I'm recovering from being an Instagram influencer. Plus 3 tips to help you navigate.

I had no idea what I was getting into when I started my climbing business.

I started by posting photos of my artwork on Instagram, and eventually photos of me and my climbing adventures.

Early on, I was happy with my mediocre photos and goofy captions. But over time, I noticed the algorithm wanted more. My audience reacted better to photos of my face, and any picture that involved a sports bra would get four times the engagement.

My business was never meant to be all about me, but it was turning into a one-woman show.

I had always intended to speak honestly to my audience, so I started talking about my experiences with anxiety and depression, and how rock climbing was helping me deal with them. And it felt good to get it off my chest — at first.

Then, I noticed something surprising. People would congratulate me for talking about my vulnerabilities online. They would send me sparkly emojis and warm messages like, "Thank you for saying this!" or "We need to hear more people normalizing these conversations!"

Whenever I posted about my anxiety online, I would feel a wave of validation from a certain kind of Instagram user.

Without any real awareness, I learned that if I posted vulnerable content, my engagement would see a boost. I would feel better momentarily, and my brand would have a higher chance of gaining visibility that might lead to a sale.

It seemed that what my audience really wanted and benefitted from was my deepest and innermost feelings.

I began pouring out my soul on the internet, and in turn, certain users loved me back. I wondered from time to time if I might be oversharing. But so many self-love memes and wellness influencers would remind me that I'm not alone out there, and we're all suffering together. Sharing my story wasn't self-serving or indulgent, it was brave — something to be proud of.

But years later, I found myself becoming more and more anxious. And my income had weirdly become tied to how much I shared online.

I had naively fallen victim to audience capture, a term that describes how influencers become brainwashed by their followers over time.

“Audience capture is an irresistible force in the world of influencing, because it's not just a conscious process but also an unconscious one. While it may ostensibly appear to be a simple case of influencers making a business decision to create more of the content they believe audiences want, and then being incentivized by engagement numbers to remain in this niche forever, it's actually deeper than that. It involves the gradual and unwitting replacement of a person's identity with one custom-made for the audience.”

—Gurwinder, The Perils of Audience Capture

The impulsive desires of my audience rewarded me for sharing content about my anxiety and led me down a path where my content was becoming increasingly more vulnerable without my permission.

I saw that it was making me a more anxious and hypersensitive person offline.

But what made my situation even more dangerous was the lack of helpful information available to me. 

Although the crowd Instagram placed me with seemed to be focused on healing and self-growth, none of their content made me believe that anxiety was a condition I could address.

The supportive comments I received from “healers” and wellness influencers ended with one-liners like "just breathe" or "you got this." 

But did I really have this? No, I didn't. 

I desperately wanted to get it under control, but no one in my network had real answers. All I got was a stream of affirmations from so-called experts telling me "it's okay not to be ok."

Maybe it was thanks to my martial arts training, but an awareness finally dawned on me. I saw that my rewards on social media were connected to my own negative feelings, and I knew it couldn’t be sustainable. 

I wanted to be allowed to be happy. I didn't want any more people telling me that it was okay to remain anxious for the rest of my life.

I decided to stop posting about anxiety. And I stopped gushing about my emotions online.

The engagement dropped, and the effects were palpable. I felt as though I had betrayed my core following. But when I changed directions, I saw social media from a new angle. 

I saw that most of the people who had applauded my anxious posts were in the same position I had just been in. They too were receiving positive feedback for their struggles and were rewarded for never overcoming their challenge. It was an endless loop.

When I stopped indulging in my anxiety, I started to simply do more things. And the more I became engrossed in exploring the science of better diets, history, or learning how to build a website, I saw real improvements appear in my life.

I saw that all the Instagram users who had sent me sparkly heart vibes when I was anxious really didn't care that I was feeling better. I had left the club.

What I learned was that when you follow the sticky perfume of validation, you inevitably fall victim to audience capture. Your identity is replaced with the desires of an impulsive audience who doesn't really know or care what's best for you. It wants what is most entertaining or reaffirming for them.

If you’re an influencer online or “someone” to any one particular group, the chances are high that you’ve experienced audience capture to some degree.

I was lucky to have identified when I was going down a dark path and been able to back out of it. Many who make a living off of influencing or content creation have passed up that option long ago.

Now, I do my best to engage with a broad audience and talk about a wide array of topics that people from all corners of the internet can relate to.

The most important aspect of being online for me now is to retain the spirit that is me, and not allow the audience to take the wheel.

3 things I remind myself of when I’m on social media:

1. I will give myself the freedom to change

2. I will listen to my intuition just as much as outside opinions

3. I will not be afraid to speak honestly

Will the internet get safer? I don’t know, but I hope so.

In the meantime, protect the innermost parts of you that should never have to be subject to your audiences’ opinions and validations. 

Your spirit deserves to be protected — it’s the core of who you are.

The author enjoying an authentically goofy day out. Malibu Creek State Park, CA. Photo by Anna Chan.

Grateful to Leo Ariel for reviewing my draft and to those who responded to my Instagram poll about being interested in this topic. (It’s ironic, I know.)

Also, to Gurwinder for writing THE article about audience capture that so beautifully explained this concept I’ve been grasping at for years.