My first ever post on Instagram was a rather unappealing close up shot of quinoa and asparagus. It was 2014, and I was struggling with the symptoms from PoTS and Histamine Intolerance that were taking over my life.
Before then, I only knew that Instagram could be used to add filters (preferably Valencia) to photos before posting them on Facebook.
After several months of becoming more and more poorly, I turned to the internet to look for help, and soon came across blogs that promised they could help me heal, if I only changed my diet.
A lot of these conversations seemed to be happening on Instagram, and since I thought a food diary would be a helpful thing to have, I created an account and joined in.
Pretty soon, through posting colourful pictures of the foods I was eating, and how I was feeling. Through using hashtags, my follower count began to tick up. Suddenly people were reading my thoughts - something I never thought would happen, and certainly didn’t set out to do.
Suffice to say, my foray into the wellness industry didn’t go so well.
I’ve written several times before about this specific experience, so I won’t rehash it all here, but if you’re interested you can read more about it on my blog.
The weird thing about developing a platform when you don’t set out to is you kind of feel like you’re constantly playing catch up. You don’t realise the influence (and therefore responsibility) that you have, and it’s only over time that the way you interact with your content changes to take that into consideration.
Fast forward the best part of a decade, and a lot has changed. I’ve changed, my health has changed, and oh bloody hell has the internet changed.
When I joined Instagram I thought my life was over. I genuinely believed that I would never be able to work again (the most important thing to me back then), have a relationship, or, if I’m being entirely honest, a happy life.
I’m writing this as 2021 draws to a close (although this is being published in February 2022), and I can safely say that I was mistaken. I have a life that I never thought that I would have, and am so grateful for. But I’ve been one of the lucky ones.
Over the years, I have shared my ups and downs on social media. I shared what I learned, my successes, when things went to shit. I’d go through phases of posting, and phases wondering what I was doing online at all.
I took breaks, for many months at a time. I felt like I had a responsibility to show everything, which only ended up feeling performative. As Instagram added more and more features that demanded more and more content, I felt a pressure to broadcast and share - to the detriment of living in the here and now.
For much of that time, most of my life was spent alone, in bed, in a white box of a room. The internet was all I had. It was my tool for connection. I remember asking “who am I without the internet.” Not because of social media, but because I couldn’t “be” in the world, the way most people can.
Over time, I was able to access the right help and support to help me build up my life again. It feels paradoxical in a way. Because I needed to be able to make improvements to be able to build a life that wasn’t predominantly restricted to my white box and the screen of my phone.
My love-hate relationship with social media
Many people don’t know this, but I actually started my relationship with social media (outside of personal stuff - remember MySpace?!) through an international youth journalism platform I set up after I had to take a break from my Masters degree.
It turned into something much bigger than I ever expected, winning me a trip to India with Richard Branson and the Virgin Media Pioneers. We launched an internationally recognised project in Libya (partnering with the Libyan Youth Movement), and quickly developed a good following on our Facebook page.
I still remember when the first algorithm came in. We went from thousands of views from our posts, to double digits almost overnight. It was a sign of things to come.
When it comes to Instagram, I’ve been through an evolution.
I started by posting about food, then about the dangers of wellness. Then, I didn’t know what to do. Then I came back and started talking about issues that impacted me around identity, mobility aids, and work.
Over the last few years, I’ve become passionate about working with experts to share content around the management of chronic illness that most people simply do not have access to.
My pacing series and movement series have been incredibly well received, and I know are now being recommended in clinics by several NHS practitioners (which makes me so happy).
During the pandemic, I took the biggest break I ever have, and reflected on what I can bring to the community - without just being another voice on a platform drowning in noise.
I can’t handle the constant ups and downs of social media. I don’t want to be dependent on an algorithm that demands more and more types of content to have anything shown to the people who chose to follow you, and I don’t want to be caught up in a reactive cycle that demands constant scrolling and to constantly share your opinion on the latest news of the day.
There are people out there who do that, and do it very well. But I need to take a step back and take things a little slower.
I want to make in-depth content for and about chronic illness and disability - stuff that people need help with, and stuff that goes deeper.
I’m not a video maker - and so I feel like my ability to use social media to do this is quickly diminishing.
This last year has been an extremely tough one for me both personally and health-wise. I have experienced the worst flare-up I’ve had in a long time, and as such have made the decision to leave my job at the BBC.
Taking time off gave me a lot of time to reflect on my life, how I manage my health, and what I want for the future.
That is why I have decided to change direction, just a little bit.
So, what can you expect from The Rest Room?
Well, more than anything, I want The Rest Room to be a place for slow content. I want it to be informative, thoughtful and challenging.
For now, this will mostly look like working with some brilliant professionals to share content about many different aspects of managing and understanding chronic illness, as well as exploring different issues that impact the community.
I have a bunch of longer-term projects I want to work on, as well as some exciting stand-alone series. But they require funding, and are therefore not feasible right now.
One of the best things I’ve done recently has been to hire (bloody amazing) producers for my podcast, which has enabled me to make it at all because I’ve actually got support.
I also want to create in-depth blog posts, reviews, and video interviews with interesting people doing interesting things.
I will still be on Instagram, but I feel like building a platform outside of that, one that I can depend on, is vitally important.
Where do we go from here?
For now, I want to create more structure to my content. Beyond social media, you can expect:
A monthly episode of The Rest Room podcast (with the aim of going twice-monthly if I can get the financial support to do so)
A twice-monthly newsletter featuring original writing, some of my favourite things I’ve learned or read in the last few weeks, reviews, recommendations, and some of my personal insights into topics we’re discussing.
Some bonus bits
My podcast, and much of the content on this newsletter and other projects I work on will remain free to users, always. This is really important to me, especially as I’m passionate about making health communications as accessible to as many people as possible.
However, for the last several years, I have been self-funding my content, with some help from the odd collaboration.
As I mentioned, I have left my job, which means I will now be working freelance. I have hired producers to help with my podcast, and I want to be able to commission chronically ill writers and artists.
So, with that in mind, I am making a premium option available for those of you who would like to (and are able to) support me.
If my work has helped you over the years, I’d really appreciate your support. If you are unable to afford this, I totally understand. A like, comment, subscribe and share helps so much!
If you subscribe to this newsletter as a paid subscriber you can also get:
2 extra member-only newsletters a month
Ability to comment on posts
Access to community discussions and Q&As
Ability to vote for topics and themes
Access to the full archive on the Substack site
So, if you’d like to support my work, please consider hitting subscribe.
If you’re receiving this and are already on my mailing list, you will be automatically subscribed to my free newsletter. I’m just moving over my newsletter from Mailchimp to Substack.
If you’re interested in becoming a premium subscriber, you can save 10% off forever, if you join before 10th February 2022 using this link.
I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who has supported my work over the years, and has allowed me to get to this point today. I really hope I can make content that makes you proud, and helps support you towards living well with chronic illness.
Natasha x