Instagram Burnout Is Pushing Experts to Substack

Every day when I open Substack, I see another post that starts with: “I deleted Instagram, and I’m so much happier here.”

Andi Bitay

Feb 22, 2025

Is this just a passing trend?

Am I trapped in a Substack bubble that has nothing to do with reality?

Or are more and more people really getting tired of Instagram?

I’ve thought a lot about these questions, trying to look at things without bias.

I paid attention to the posts I saw on Substack.
I checked similar conversations on Threads.
I reflected on my own feelings about social media.
I talked to my clients about their experiences.

Based on all this, I can say that Instagram burnout is real—and it has been for a long time. What’s new, and what makes it feel like a trend, is that people are finally saying it out loud.

Instagram is built to keep us scrolling. Every feature—disappearing stories, endless feeds, constant notifications—pushes us to stay engaged. For creators, this means always feeling the pressure to post, check, and keep up.

Stories vanish in 24 hours, making us feel like we have to keep creating or risk being forgotten. Notifications pull us back throughout the day, making it hard to disconnect. The never-ending feed suggests there’s always more to see—or more we should be posting.

This isn’t just distracting—it’s changing how we create. Instead of deep, thoughtful content, we’re forced to shrink ideas into 15-second videos or quick carousels. Speed matters more than quality. Posting often feels more important than saying something meaningful.

For years, Instagram dominated the world of entrepreneurs and creators. TikTok, YouTube, or Twitter weren’t for everyone, but Instagram managed to pack everything into one platform, making it feel essential. And, of course, the audience was there.

But that came at a cost.

What many don't realize is how dramatically Instagram's algorithm has evolved—and not in creators' favor. Remember when reaching your followers was simple? Now, organic reach has plummeted, leaving many creators speaking into what feels like a void. Despite consistent effort and growing follower counts, engagement often drops mysteriously after algorithm updates.

The platform has essentially become "pay-to-play." Want your followers—people who explicitly chose to see your content—to actually see your posts? You might need to boost them with ad spend. This creates a disheartening dynamic where success feels increasingly dependent on budget rather than quality.

Constant posting felt like a never-ending treadmill. If you slowed down, engagement dropped.
Chasing trends became exhausting. Reels, carousels, stories, lives—there was always something new to keep up with.
Content disappeared too fast. Hours of effort turned into a moment of visibility before the algorithm moved on.

But beyond these surface-level frustrations lies a deeper creative crisis. Instagram's format forces complex ideas into oversimplified, bite-sized pieces.

Experts with years of experience find themselves reducing nuanced insights into flashy 15-second videos or ten-slide carousels. The platform's demands for "snackable" content often mean sacrificing depth for digestibility.

The biggest issue is the toll Instagram takes on our mental health. It's not just about the time spent creating content, it’s the constant comparison to others, especially to perfectly curated images of success and lifestyle.

Every post comes with instant numbers—likes, comments, shares—that feel like a scorecard of our value.

As Iva writes in her post:
“Every time I opened the app, I felt like I was losing. And I for sure wasn’t. But the boastfulness on the platform makes it feel like someone is always doing more. Posting more. Selling more. Getting more engagement.”

The platform’s focus on validation is designed to be addictive. The quick dopamine hit from likes and comments keeps us coming back, even when we know it’s not good for us.

Then we hit a breaking point. More and more people started realizing: This isn’t working. But what’s next?

Experts and thought leaders are looking for a better way—a way to share their ideas without the stress of disappearing content, algorithm anxiety, short attention spans, low reach, and constant comparison.

And that’s exactly what they’re finding on Substack.

What makes Substack different? It solves many of Instagram's fundamental problems:

Full ownership of your audience through email lists, removing the algorithmic middleman
Freedom to explore topics at whatever length they require, without artificial constraints
No pressure for artificial consistency—quality trumps quantity
Direct relationship with readers, fostering genuine connections
Focus on substance over style, allowing ideas to shine without the noise

Deep focus and real connections make this platform feel meaningful. If you put in the work here, it leads to real results.

Not everyone, but many people are craving longer and deeper content, a slower pace of content creation, less noise, and more meaningful connections. A place where they can rely on their efforts to bring results—without feeling like a puppet being pulled by strings.

Instagram has a special place in my heart. 14 years ago, when I was already working as a social media manager on Facebook, a friend sent me a message: "Download this app, it’s so you."

And he was right. I loved Instagram.

It all started so innocently with those cringy filtered photos. Then, naturally, I began building my personal brand by sharing photos from the opening of our (now closed) fashion store. A little later, I shifted toward blogging, but I realized Instagram was essential. Over time, I wrote fewer blog posts and instead posted on Instagram daily—simply because I enjoyed it. People saw my posts, followed me, and commented. Without any effort, I was getting 600-700 likes per post with just over 10,000 followers.

I loved photography and writing. But I never liked making videos. When Instagram started pushing Reels, that was the first moment I felt like I didn’t belong here anymore. But how could I, a social media consultant, not take advantage of Instagram’s features?

Along with Reels came an explosion of shallow tips—15-second videos showing how to add a rainbow background to your Stories or glittery dancing hearts to your videos.

What did I do, and how did I adapt?

I always tell my clients what to expect from Instagram so they don’t have false hopes about their reach.
I also talk to them about how to protect their mental health while using it.
I started exploring other platforms (like newsletter, Podcast, Threads), and I introduced these to my clients too. Just yesterday, I hosted my first Substack workshop.

And what are my plans for Instagram?

Well, besides my Hungarian account, I also started an English one, but I never really used it. I have 178 followers there (hi, if you're one of them!), and I’m about to start an experiment: how to fall back in love with IG.

Can I rediscover the joy of the old days? Or is it a completely different platform now? Can I post without pressure, reach people, and enjoy creating content—or is that just wishful thinking?

I’ll be writing about it here :)

💌 If any of this resonates with you and you're curious about making Substack work for your business, I'd love to help. Join me for one-on-one strategy sessions where we can explore how to build your presence here in a way that feels authentic and sustainable.

Warmly,
Andi