The correlation between counting Instagram likes and counting calories
I'd stopped measuring my worth through food, but then I was doing it through social media praise and numbers
TW: This piece covers topics such as calorie counting, weight loss, starvation, and scale use.
I don’t count calories and I don’t weigh myself anymore, but I used to.
A decade after that period of my life was over, I was looking at likes, follower numbers, and other forms of social media analytics the same way I had viewed my body: worthy only if it met unrealistic (and deadly) standards, worthy only by the opinions of other people, acceptable only if it met numbers I came up with in my head, the numbers becoming more extreme the closer I came to my goal.
Paying such close attention to these numbers, and going to Instagram for validation, had the same effect on my mental health as the scale and calorie counting did. And if I am not careful, looking at those numbers on IG can sneak its way back into my psyche as a main source of validation and security.
Counting calories and counting macros are the beloved children of diet culture.
But how does being “county” (a word a friend made up and I like to use for this type of trait) in other areas of my life lead me to feeling the same way, i.e., never enough, depending upon an external source to tell me I’m okay?
Here is where I draw the correlation.
When I was counting calories, I was using that form of measurement to feel in control and good about myself when I would hit the ideal number. It was a box to check off, a way for me to say, “You’ve been good today!”
Whether it be reaching a goal weight or aiming to consume a set caloric intake for the day, I’d come up with a number in my head and not stop until I reached it. I’d put all my eggs in that basket, saying to myself, “I’ll be happy once I reach this number”.
Once I’d reach it, not only would I not be happy like I thought I’d be, but I’d be terribly depressed, a shell of a person, having poured all of my time, energy, money, and self worth into an objectively vain aspect of external validation. When I wasn’t feeling the way I’d hoped, I continued to starve myself until I could reach a further goal. That is, until I realized I was killing myself, stuck in an endless feedback loop like Dante’s inferno, and was, as my mother had (correctly) expressed grave concern over, in need of serious help.
Similarly, when I was peak influencing, I was putting all my eggs into the same basket, disguised in a different color: likes and following count.
The fact that Instagram even calls it likes and followers goes to show their intention of creating those familiar sources of validation, comfort, safety and acceptance from society. Who doesn’t want to be liked? And followed, which is just another word for getting paid attention to? And don't forget, this is all at the whim of an app that vies for your attention, sells said attention to companies for ad space and forces creators to spend 24/7 on their app in order for their content to be seen.
When our validation is at the hands of an ever-changing algorithm run by for-profit companies, where does that leave us?
Unlike anorexia, where I wanted the scale/calorie count to be as small as possible, with Instagram, I wanted the numbers to be as big as possible. In the early days of IG, I paid for an external analytics software that would deliver me daily reports of my following increases and decreases. Eventually I deleted it, but during those months of having that software, I recall checking the numbers throughout the day, getting a hit when it was high and a gut punch when it was low. I now correlate that to stepping on the scale throughout the day, only happy when it was a number I wanted to see, and terribly sad when it was higher than I wanted.
With Instagram, I remember thinking, once I hit 200K, then I’ll be happy. Within hours of hitting 200K, I was already dreaming of hitting 1 million.
It was never enough.
When I was getting 20,000, 30,000 likes per post during peak Lee From America, I can look you in the eye and tell you that I was so lonely during that time (not to mention, gravely struggling with orthorexia). I was a shell of a person. (Ring a bell?) I had poured my entire life, identity, and worth into my content on Instagram, which put me in danger of falling apart when things shift, and they always do.
I was an anxious mess, anxious to be away from my phone too much, anxious my content would not be received well, anxious I would make a mistake, anxious from all the pressure of eyeballs on me. I look back and I look at these pictures and it makes me feel sad, and like I don’t know that girl. I lived for my phone, I lived for validation, I lived for Instagram.
The likes, the comments, the followers, it was never enough! With anorexia, once you hit that goal weight, it is, similarly, not enough.
It’s never enough because it’s a false sense of validation and security; things that need to come from within, not from external, worldly factors. However, we are taught from a very young age not to trust our internal voices, and so, throughout life, we must re-learn how to offer that for ourselves, to say,
“Aw, you are going back to that source to get validation because that’s the only way you know how. But let me tell you: you are enough. You are so so so so so so so enough.”
It’s corny to hear, but numbers will shift all our lives. Our weight, our income, our likes, our age, our friend size. It’s important to have a steady stream of that inner love to keep grounded. That’s what I have learned, and it’s a lesson I hope to continue to deepen and understand.