When I was a freshman in college I had a gigantic zit on my nose and lied to everyone. I told them that I got scratched by a cat and walked around with a bandaid on my nose for a week. That memory was forever immortalized by all the Instagram photos I had with a bandage on my nose.
My post-breakup sass was etched into cyberspace through selfies with my curled hair and bright blue bodycon. My two year relationship defined by a quick snap of some flowers that an ex picked up from Jewel.
It seemed like every moment in my young adulthood was preserved through my Instagram, every misstep and every little success. A selfie I took after an interview at the first non-profit I ever worked for, a picture taken at the first fundraiser I ever planned. Some memories were unforgettable and brought back nostalgia. Others felt juvenile.
So, I decided to delete (well.. archive) the five years and start again. I’m not a little college student trekking around Chicago anymore… I’m somehow a young working woman in the city of Dallas. And I think my life, my blog, and my Instagram is reflective of that. I don’t consider this the end, but rather the beginning. Of a new era and new time in my life.
The first photo I posted was an artsy snap of my haircut. I took it in my cube after we interviewed a few candidates for an opening today. And admittedly, it seems like the perfect photo to post to symbolize this transition.
And honestly, it’s just the beginning.
“A story has no beginning or end: arbitrarily one chooses that moment of experience from which to look back or from which to look ahead.”
Are you on Instagram? What’s your favorite part? Would you guys ever start over again on Instagram?