Finsta. Translation: fake Instagram, a recent invention brought to you by none other than millennials. If you haven’t heard of it, you are probably too mature to worry yourself with such trivial endeavors. Its purpose is to show a side of the user that would never be acceptable on “real” Instagram.
Finsta accounts are a place where users cry over their woes and blab about all the crazy things in their lives, a virtual diary so to speak, with about 40 of someone’s closest friends in on it. This computer-generated safe space acts as an escape from trying to post a perfect, iconic, never-been-done-before picture. Only people the user trusts are allowed access to it and “snakes” are either not granted access or blocked completely.
This concept of online self-expression keeps us sane. Followers get an inside ride through whatever hardships or exciting events are going on and account holders receive some sort of endorphin release from sharing their daily secrets. The stress release effects of finsta make it a useful tool in one’s self-care toolbox, but it does make me wonder if there is something problematic in hiding ourselves from the masses.
There are two sides to people: The one they show on Instagram and the one they show on their finsta. This dual identity may seem like a nonissue, but there is something to be said about holding back self-expression for the sake of avoiding judgment.
People often won’t post a certain picture they like because “it's not good enough for Instagram.” A large gap exists between what people are comfortable posting on their finsta and what they will post for their other Instagram. When it comes to “real” Instagram, users limit themselves to the small instances when their lives look picture perfect.
Someone’s “real” Instagram account arguably isn’t even real. Most of the time the pictures fit a formula in an attempt to make the algorithm favor them. The caption doesn’t usually reveal the same amount of authenticity as finsta's do, and there is rarely any great revelation of self-expression. There’s nothing wrong with trying to get a lot of likes — as long as it’s not at an emotional cost. If you’re stressing about the aesthetic of your feed and feel like your finsta is the only place you can be yourself, it may be time to reevaluate how social media affects you.
Maybe it is time to forget the likes and the algorithm and post what we are feeling. Try posting a picture you traditionally wouldn’t post because it wasn’t good enough. If you post so often that your brain waves have basically connected to the Instagram main server, try not posting as often and see how it makes you feel.
Who knows, maybe deviating from our “real” Instagram is the road to more likes.
Jackie De Freitas is a UF journalism junior. Her column appears on Fridays.
