I Deleted 40% of My Instagram Followers. Yes, I Kind of Regret It.

4 hours ago

4 min read

I had well over 100,000 Instagram followers and deliberately removed roughly 40% of my follower base. Tens of thousands of accounts were deleted manually, with far too much of my own time spent inspecting profiles that had no business being there. I hoped a cleaner audience would improve my reach, reconnect me with real followers and help new people find my content.

After around a year and a half of deleting, checking and occasionally being told by Instagram to stop pressing the same button, I’m rather less enthusiastic.

Do I regret it? Yes, kind of, which is an irritating conclusion after giving myself that much unpaid admin. But only kind of.

Do I regret it? Yes, kind of.

Woman with glasses sits on a beige sofa in a bright living room, smiling at her phone, with pillows and windows behind her.

I Don’t Miss the Accounts I Deleted

The accounts themselves can stay gone. There were bots, spam accounts, dubious businesses and men whose interest in my interiors seemed unlikely to extend to the curtains. Other profiles followed thousands of people, had nothing remotely convincing on them and appeared to exist purely to sell something, send something unpleasant or persuade someone to click a link they absolutely shouldn’t.

These were not people patiently waiting for my next kitchen update. I was removing rubbish, not turning away an enthusiastic crowd of design lovers.

I’m not talking about genuine people who simply don’t comment. Plenty of followers enjoy looking without announcing their presence, and being private or having very few posts doesn’t automatically make someone a bot.

My intention was never to demand regular participation as the price of admission. I wanted to remove accounts that clearly had no genuine interest in what I shared. Nobody needs to leave a thoughtful observation about my sofa to avoid being escorted out.

Smiling woman in glasses holds a phone beside a small dog in a bright living room with patterned rug and sofa.

The Reunion Was Lovely. The Growth Was Less Impressive.

At first, people I used to speak to regularly started seeing my posts again. They commented, sent messages and told me I had popped back into their feed after a long absence.

That was lovely, and it made the hours of deleting feel rather more worthwhile. In my six-month update, I was optimistic about those early changes. I expected the improvement to continue, ideally with some new faces joining us too.

Over the longer term, my engagement hasn’t improved much, and I haven’t reached the new audience I was hoping for. I’ve been through my follower list thoroughly, but removing all those accounts didn’t bring a queue of new people keen to discuss paint colours.

Instagram has changed plenty of things along the way, so I can’t tell you exactly how much difference the deleting made on its own. I can tell you that it was a lot of effort without the lasting improvement I wanted. Had I known that at the beginning, I might have found something more enjoyable to do with my evenings.

The Number Still Gets You Through the Door

The smaller follower count has affected collaborations, particularly with companies that seem to look at that number and little else.

At first glance, I now look smaller than colleagues whose profiles still display six figures. Yet removing an account that never watched, clicked or cared hasn’t taken an interested customer away from a brand. The people who were watching and engaging are still there. Unfortunately, explaining that takes longer than glancing at a number.

I strongly suspect plenty of accounts that have been around as long as mine have collected much the same rubbish. I wouldn’t be surprised if some had half their follower list made up of bots, abandoned accounts, spam profiles and people who lost interest years ago, although I haven’t inspected their lists and can’t give you a percentage.

I strongly suspect plenty of accounts that have been around as long as mine have collected much the same rubbish.

Those followers accumulate over time, without anyone necessarily buying them or inviting them in. Two creators can have similarly engaged audiences while one displays twice the follower count. One of us has just spent rather more time taking out the bins.

Blonde woman in glasses sits on a green sofa holding a phone in a cozy living room with bird artwork and a lamp.

There’s also more to a collaboration with me than the number above my photos. I’m an interior designer creating photographs and videos in a real home, showing products in rooms I’ve actually put together and live in.

Alongside posting on my own channels, I provide agreed content that brands can use on theirs too, often referred to as UGC. Those photographs and videos can keep being useful long after my post has disappeared down someone’s feed.

I’m happy to show companies my figures and discuss what we could make together, but getting them to look past that first number now takes more work.

Getting them to look past that first number now takes more work.

And Yet I’m Still Deleting Them

So yes, I regret the time involved and making it harder for myself to get collaborations. I don’t regret losing the accounts themselves, and I have no desire to invite them back for a group photo. I knew how much weight people gave that number, but I hoped the benefits of cleaning up my audience would make up for it.

Woman on a gray couch looks at her phone while a small curly dog watches in a bright living room.

We’re encouraged to care about genuine engagement, then judged by how many followers we have before anyone checks who they are. I’d love to say I’m above caring about that, but it affects my work, so of course I care.

And when an obvious bot follows me now, do I leave it alone? Of course I don’t, because I seem to have learnt very little from this extremely time-consuming exercise. 😅 Out it goes, along with accounts whose intentions have nothing to do with interiors.