u/shahfad_khan

I’m 26, single, and have never had a girlfriend. Sometimes i get really depressed thinking that i don’t have someone to share my life with. But then i also think, maybe it’s better that i’m single. I’m scared that if i ever get into a relationship, i’ll love her deeply, get emotionally attached, and one day she might cheat on me.

The thought of going through that heartbreak scares me so much that i don’t even try to talk to anyone or get close to anyone. And then, when i feel lonely, i find myself wishing i had a girlfriend someone i could talk to every day, share my thoughts with, tell everything to, and just feel understood by. It feels like i’m stuck in this cycle: I want love, but i’m afraid of what love could do to me.

I know not everyone cheats, but i can’t seem to get this fear out of my head. Has anyone else felt this way? How did you overcome it?

I made my Instagram account back in October 2012.

Back then, opening the app genuinely felt refreshing. People posted moments from their lives, not content for an algorithm. A cup of coffee, a sunset, a random walk, college memories—everything felt real.

The filters had their own identity too. X-Pro II, Earlybird, and Valencia were everywhere. One tap, and somehow every photo looked timeless.

Then came 2016. The logo changed, but Instagram still felt like Instagram. Photos were still the heart of the app, memes slowly started appearing, and the balance was still there.

Then Reels arrived in 2020. At first, it wasn't that bad. For about a year, it actually felt fun. But little by little, the algorithm changed everything. Suddenly it wasn't about the people you followed anymore, it became an endless stream of whatever kept you scrolling the longest.

Today, opening Instagram feels completely different. It's reached the point where it reminds me of those days when people would quickly hide their phone if a song like Britney Spears started playing because they didn't want anyone to see what was on the screen. That's how unpredictable and uncomfortable the feed has become.

So in 2025, after 13 years, I permanently deleted my account.

It's been 7–8 months now. I can't say deleting Instagram magically changed my life or made me wildly successful. But I can honestly say I removed one source of noise that constantly occupied my mind. That alone has been worth it. Maybe I'm just nostalgic. But I still wish Instagram would go back to being what made millions of us fall in love with it in the first place/ a place for photos, memories, and genuine moments, not endless short videos fighting for our attention.

Sometimes moving forward isn't adding another feature. Sometimes it's remembering what made people stay in the first place..

I was sitting in a coffee shop today, like any ordinary day, quietly taking a few sips, when something shifted in the air.

A young girl, maybe around 20, suddenly started trembling. Not the kind you can ignore, but the kind that shakes something inside you too. Her hands wouldn’t stop moving, her whole body caught in a storm no one else could see. There were a few people around. One kind person gently held her, helped her sit, gave her water. Her sister was there too, trying to steady her, giving her a tablet, holding onto her like she might fall apart.

But even then, she kept shaking.

And I just sat there, feeling my chest tighten, my eyes filling without asking me first. There’s something deeply human about witnessing pain you can’t fix. I wanted to ask her what happened, what she was going through, but some silences feel too heavy to touch. Moments like this remind you, everyone is fighting something invisible. Battles that don’t make noise, yet echo loudly within.

If I ever come across something like this again, what should I actually do in that moment? How can I help calm the person down, support them properly, and not make things worse?