For as long as I can remember, my Instagram feed has essentially been a mish-mash of two things: girls I know that I want to have sex with and girls I do not know (otherwise known as models) that I want to have sex with.
And, for as long as I can remember this was all fine and dandy with me. I could open Instagram at any time during the day and see a new picture of some talentless hack (also referred to as “models”) selling FitTea or teeth whitener.
Sure, I follow 50 or 60 friends who post every now and again, but on a daily basis, the pictures that pop up on my feed are from hot girls with really nice attributes.
I’ve written about poorly captioned pictures from aforementioned Instagram “models.”What I never realized and failed to write about in the time since then is that I could simply unfollow these women.
Were all of these girls incredibly attractive? Yes. But after a while that constant stream of butts and boobs makes you numb to the outside world. You lose interest in girls on line at the grocery store or walking their dog.
Girls in real life that at one point you would have gone wild over are not even getting a second look anymore. And that’s where I find myself this week. If you identify as an Instagram model and your name isn’t Emily Ratajkowski or Bella Hadid, I’m not really all that interested in following you.
No one had a gun to my head when I followed Sommer Ray, Anastasia Ashley, or Hannah Stocking. It’s the same shit every day from chicks like the ones I’ve mentioned.
A tasteful ass shot in the morning, an Instagram story a few hours later humble bragging about where they’re shooting for the day (usually Los Angeles or a remote location in fucking Bali or something), and then maybe a nightcap post showing them eating In-N-Out to prove that they’re just like us regular people.
Unfollowing Instagram models is a great way to boost your self-esteem. In an age where we are desensitized by internet porn and unrealistic expectations because of it, the last thing we need to worry about are crazy beauty standards via some random Instagram account that exclusively posts pictures of girls butts.
Imagine if you will for a moment that you are me. I’m an average looking white guy who has, at least up until this point, led a fairly privileged life. These accounts that I keep talking about – the ones that feature girls with really nice asses and boobs? They are just setting me up for failure. I don’t blame my shortcomings with women on these Instagram models, but they certainly weren’t helping things when I’d go to a bar or the beach after a long day of scrolling the feed.
“Oh, look. That girl’s not wearing one of those bathing suits with the thong as a bottom piece. I mean she’s cute but what the hell is up with that normal ass bikini she’s got on? No, thanks!”
Do you know what following these accounts day in and day out does to an incredibly average looking male? Asinine comments like that one.
I enjoy looking at the pictures, but at the end of the day I know I will never sniff a girl as hot as the ones that I used to follow on Instagram. I would lay in bed night after night scrolling and liking. Scrolling and liking. Scrolling and liking. It never ends. That’s not healthy behavior.
These girls who pay their rent by posting provocative pictures on Instagram aren’t reinventing the wheel. Sex will always sell. But I’m done with all of them. You come to a realization after a while that all of these bikini pictures and videos of girls doing squats are all the same.
There’s no doubt that they are fun to look at, but at a certain point one just has to make a decision to unfollow. Imagine all of the things you could accomplish with your nose not stuck in a phone ogling a butt. You know what you can do in the time it takes to double tap a picture of Jen Selter doing burpees? You could say hello to a real live human girl in the real world instead.
From now on I’m strictly following friends, family, and a couple of really cool photographers who shoot for National Geographic and Sports Illustrated. I’m still going to follow Emily Ratajkowski, though. I’m not a lunatic. .