Person X’s move to get my page disabled would absolutely fuck me up. And lord knows Instagram wouldn’t bother protecting someone like me.
It somehow made me a vulnerable target if I pissed off the wrong person. I’ve always been “different.” And being a writer who has been willing to expose his body along with his brain is certainly unconventional. I never forgot this because it made sense on so many levels. He said, “When you do things differently, you get shit handed to you.” I had complained to him about some hurdles I faced in my writing journey and he spat out something slightly vulgar, yet very wise. This reminded me of something a friend once told me. Meanwhile, my version of success had gotten me punished. Although, who am I to mock it? It’s effective.
#The inkslinger 8nstagram movie
His page was about as edgy as a Christmas movie on the Hallmark Channel. But reporting his photos would never work. I say that now, but believe me, at the time, a part of me wanted to retaliate and do the same thing back to him. If you do manage to figure out who Person X is, please leave him alone. While I’d be flattered that people would be protective of me, it would only cause more damage. I am not going to explain why Person X was doing this because I don’t want readers to figure out who he is, and go after him, and send him angry messages. Or they can have their friends report you. They can create a new account with a different email address and report you from there. But that doesn’t offer us much protection from people who do this. Of course, I had blocked Person X a long time ago. Though, not responding possibly pissed him off more. I opted to take the high road and not engage with any of it. He even resorted to contacting a mutual friend to pass on harassing messages. He sent wildly vicious texts and emails saying things like I was a failure and I’d burn in hell. Prior to all of this, Person X had come after me in private. And, with the timing of it all, it was obvious who was behind it. Plus, some of my photos promoting my and the guest writers’ blog posts were reported as “spam content.” The robots couldn’t determine such a thing. I acknowledged their rules and wouldn’t cross the lines. This type of thing just didn’t happen to me before. They always stay up.īut it wasn’t exactly the Insta-biased-robots who were flagging my pictures. Trust me, I’ve tested it by reporting those lady-sex photos. Oftentimes, these kinds of photos get taken down while graphically sexualized photos of women stay up. And most gay users understand that Instagram has a homophobic bias when it comes to male content. Yet, these types of photos are totally within Instagram’s guidelines.Īnyone who followed my account knew that my bare-bodied posts did not have much of a sexual context to them. Anything that remotely implied nudity - like showing my lower hips - got removed. My photos had been getting taken down constantly these days. It also probably helped that I kind of saw this coming. While the weird mix of anxiety, fear, and rage wouldn’t go away entirely, I did successfully avoid exploding all over our ugly chair. I took several long, deep breaths to try to gain some control over my emotions. My head filled with panic, my heart filled with worry, and my stomach filled with anger. Explaining how I felt at that moment is tough.
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