When You’re Hot, You’re Hot

Sometimes your ol’ pal Val here gets fired up about things.

You know I’ve been “off” Facebook for a while. I still have to have a profile so I can edit posts and pages for clients, but if I didn’t have to do that, I would have zero Facebook interaction at all.

As it stands now, I can do most of my stuff via third-party apps, but sometimes I have to log in to correct something or add a link, etc.

And now, I have turned my social-media-wrath to Instagram.

This is harder for me than it was to leave Facebook.

On Instagram, I created a community of people who inspired, encouraged, and taught me. Whether it be about homesteading, pantry-stocking, personal health, medical freedom, or they were just plain nice to follow, my community there was purposeful, educational, and meaningful.

But Instagram took it too far. Their new terms of service, which go into effect on December 20th, are unconscionable.

You can read them here (and be SURE to check out that Data Policy link they gloss over, because that’s where it gets super intense) and whether you agree with me or not, I am not okay with, nor do I consent to, Instagram knowing everything about me, data mining my electronic devices and all of their components for their AI purposes, or adopting their own “license” to use my pictures, profile, or posts for their benefit or gain at their own discretion.

Not to mention the fact their level of censorship has been absolutely disgusting lately. There is no freedom of speech. None.

If they don’t like what you post, they remove it. (Granted, there are still so many impersonation accounts and porn accounts and all kinds of detestable accounts you still have to manually report and they probably won’t look at it for days, but the SECOND you post something they don’t like, boom, gone. Or shadowbanned, so as minimal an audience as possible sees your posts.)

I am a grown woman, capable of making my own choices. If I do not care for someone’s content, do not agree with what they say/share, I can either unfollow them or simply ignore said content.

But no. Instagram does not trust anyone to be an adult and think for themselves, but rather, they condition their users to only accept certain posts on certain topics by certain people, according to their own narrative “community standards.”

I refuse to participate in their game, I refuse to be a part of their algorithm, I refuse to be censored on a whim.

So, being fired up about it, I posted my rant and after I get contact info from those who wish to stay in touch, I will completely remove my account. (And also, I got some of the sweetest messages of support, and can I just say? THANK YOU. You have no idea how much it meant.)

Friends, I. Was. Fired. UP. And stayed fired up. When you’re hot, you’re hot.

All I wanted to do on Instagram was share with my like-minded community, learn from them, love their farm pictures, see their book recommendations, and post my quirky humored thoughts and/or my quirky serious thoughts. Instead, their platform essentially told me, on several occasions, that thinking for myself was not allowed or okay.

Ask my husband how much I love it when someone tells me I need to stop sharing my thoughts. Answer: I DO NOT LOVE IT AT ALL.

So of course after I got fired up about it all and decided to remove myself entirely from their ridiculousness, a fly flew right into my delicious cup of coffee and drowned.

A fly, in my house in the middle of December (why?!), died in my coffee.

And guess when I knew the fly was there? Yep. Right after I took a big ol’ swig from my cuppa joe.

Then promptly spit it out into the kitchen sink.

So that’s how my day went.

But you know what? I have my blog. Where I’m in charge of what gets shared when I decide to share it.

Where no suicidal fly or arrogant social media platform can get in my way.

So here are some posts I’m working on:

  • Book list – what I’ve read, what I’ve loved, what I think every bookshelf should have a copy of.
  • The one time I made liver for dinner and lived to tell about it. (Barely)
  • Our weekend traditions and why we have them.
  • How the Lord never overlooks a single detail.
  • More winter mumbles of life here on our hilltop homestead.
  • What. ever. I. dang. well. please.

I have had some comments in light of, “don’t let fear drive you away – they’ve been spying on us for years…” And to that I say, I am not afraid. Fear is not driving me away. What’s driving me away is total disgust. I have the freedom and the choice to opt out, and I am exercising it for the fact that I will not support, advocate, or promote any platform that wants me to use it so it can use me.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for caring about what I say enough to read to the end – whether or not you agree with me 100%.

Thank you for honoring truth, respecting differing opinions, and allowing me the space in which to share my mind mumbles.

I appreciate you so much.

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