Why I Pressed the Pause Button on Instagram

Cycling is more than just a hobby for me—it’s my sanctuary, my meditation, and a significant part of my identity these days. The cycling community, especially online, initially offered me inspiration and motivation. Yet recently, I found myself feeling increasingly depressed from the world I saw scrolling by on Instagram. It wasn’t because the images weren’t beautiful or the stories weren’t compelling; they were, overwhelmingly so. But the picture painted online often felt skewed.

I frequently found myself scrolling past images of idyllic rides, carefree lifestyles, and seemingly endless adventures, which underscored what my life was missing rather than celebrating what I had. It created a narrative of lack rather than abundance, making me feel inadequate. The fact that I couldn’t jet off at the drop of a hat to go on a week’s cycling holiday, that I wasn’t clocking 100km on every ride I was doing, simply because I don’t have the time. It doesn’t make me any less of a cyclist.

Most of the cyclists I follow seem to lead lives uncomplicated by responsibilities beyond their training schedules, café stops, and scenic routes. Rarely did I see reflections of cyclists who, like me, were balancing parenthood and managing daily life’s demands. This absence emphasised what was missing from my feed—authentic representations of diverse, responsibility-filled lives. Perhaps it’s because people simply don’t want to see that, they want to see perfect lives that don’t exist.

If we are to encourage more women into the sport we should be showing real representations of women who have more to think about than how far they’re going to go on their next bike ride. I chose to press pause on Instagram. Not from bitterness or resentment, but from a deep-seated desire to reconnect with a version of cycling—and life—that celebrates reality, embraces imperfection, and truly resonates with my values.