For the past few nights, I've had trouble getting to sleep. So, I either watch a true crime documentary (sweet dreams!) or surf social media until my eyes feel heavy. Yes, I know neither of these methods are recommended/good/smart/healthy, but it's usually the only time in the day I have 100% to myself so dammit I'm gonna do what I want.
Anyway, I used to have a separate Instagram account for VandenVogue, but it was annoying to try and keep two accounts going, so I deleted it and decided to just use my original IG. I figured 11 p.m. was a good time to go through and archive older posts I may not want public, and as a result - I relived my life for the past 5+ years.
My very first Instagram photo was of our dog, Moxie. In fact, when I joined Instagram, my posts reflect that my life consisted of my dog, boyfriend (now husband), what food we ate, cocktails we drank and places we traveled to. I took note of how, for a while, it seemed my days consisted of working from home for a popular dating site, doing Pilates 2x a day, wearing a bikini, high heels (not together), and making martinis. Then came the photos of our engagement, moving to Chicago, home decor and sightseeing. Then, of course, our wedding back in Upstate NY and peacefully fun honeymoon in the Finger Lakes region - Seneca Lake, to be exact. Shortly thereafter, posts about moving to California showed up. Our drive across the country - Nebraska, Colorado, Utah - and more home decor, as well as the inevitable beach shots and my knees on a lounge chair at the pool. In October.
At this point, I sat up in bed, not even realizing I had tears in my eyes. I had covered just two years of my life in photos and I couldn't believe how much we'd done. And, I wasn't even pregnant, yet.
Of course, the posts went on from there - announcing my pregnancy, chronicling the growing baby bump, sharing it would be a boy and his very first day in the world. Baby O flooded my IG after that, and I couldn't help but notice Moxie posts were scarce. So, I looked over at her, called her up to the bed and snuggled her for a few minutes until she fell back asleep.
My tears dropped from my eyes as I realized how fast time goes. Owen was 9 months old when we moved back to the east coast. As I kept some photos up and archived others, I watched him grow all over again. I also saw how I had changed - my priorities and life in general. As I scrolled, I sort of relived the isolation I felt after he was born, and then gloriously witnessed my confidence as a mom blossom and my sense of self come back, remembering how I felt when I posted certain photos.
When I was done, about a little more than an hour later, I set the phone down and sighed. I felt a strange clarity wash over me and bigger excitement for the future, as well as an even deeper appreciation for my partner in life - my husband.
Also, fun fact: I had been looking at little baby photos for so long, that when Owen got up this morning, I almost didn't recognize the giant child smiling at me from his crib.
Honestly, I recommend everyone going through their Instagram for a walk down memory lane - to see where you've been and what you've done and how you've evolved and all that good stuff. Just remember to have some tissues nearby, though.