Growing up means constantly re-interpreting our past. Instagram feeds, although somewhat silly, are a tangible way to see how we’ve changed. Not just in the actual photos themselves, which speak to physical maturation, but also in how we select which pictures we archive.
For many of us, we have come of age on the internet. I’ve had a personal Instagram account for around a decade.
In 2017, Instagram introduced its “Archive” feature.
“Archiving” a post is a less permanent form of deleting a photo. Simply put, you can remove a photo from your page, but you’ll always have the option to undo that removal and reinstate the post.
And just like that, we have the ability to reach back into the past and continuously reshape how we want others to see us.
How do we decide which parts of ourselves we want to hide?
[COMMENT]: How did you decide which photos you archived?
As a middle schooler, I’d archive photos I had “changed my mind” about, deciding that I didn’t look good enough for it to have a spot on my feed. Only the cream of the crop got a spot on the Instagram matrix.
Today, (with exceptions) I archive photos when they don’t really mean anything to me anymore. The heavily filtered flower photo I took at ten doesn’t really say anything about me. Neither does the mediocre selfie I took in a parking lot because the “lighting was good,” at age fifteen.
When I think about what I want to get out of social media, it’s always going to be a highlight reel, but I want it to be a highlight reel which shows me at my happiest (not me at my prettiest or me at my most popular). Instagram isn’t realistic, but that doesn’t mean its inauthentic.
I want my Instagram to say, “If you were to meet the happiest version of me, this is what she would look like.”
I want my Instagram to say, “If you were to meet the happiest version of me, this is what she would look like.”
Social media will never capture us in our entirely, but it can still showcase an authentic part of us. Instagram reflects what we think is our best, based on what we value in that moment. Yet, as we get older, this definition of “our best” evolves.
Why archive over delete?
I think there’s a certain tenderness involved.
As we grow up, we become gentler with past versions of ourselves. More forgiving of our faults.
At one point in time, the photo in question was our best. Maybe it minimized insecurities we’ve now gotten over, included friends we are no longer in touch with, or showcased a “cool” persona.
Archived photos answer the question: Who did I used to want to be?
At some point in time, that photo we’ve archived showcased a version of ourselves we were proud of and perhaps aspired to be all the time.
I think of my Instagram archive as a graveyard for what I used to see as my best. With the archive feature, we can raise our past selves from the dead at the push of a button.
I think of my Instagram archive as a graveyard for what I used to see as my best. With the archive feature, we can raise our past selves from the dead at the push of a button.
I have archived photos and then un-archived them. Especially as time passes, I’m not embarrassed of my younger self anymore. More so, proud. There are times when I want people to see who I used to be. That unstylish little girl, laughing at the camera.
When the past is recent history, harsh judgment still lingers. But, as I gain distance from who I used to be, I see my younger self’s flaws as endearing rather than painful. She may not be perfect, but she is the best I had to offer.
With the Instagram archive button, we are given the opportunity to impermanently remove our histories.
As our perspective on our past shifts, we’re afforded the opportunity to change our minds about which versions of ourselves we love and which we don’t.
As the middle school desperation to fit in fades into values-based confidence, what we see as our “best” changes. Using the Instagram archive feature gives us flexibility in how we control out own narratives.
[COMMENT]: Describe a photo you archived. Why did you decide to archive it?