How AI is Changing Everything — But How Can You Be Safe?

After being impersonated on Instagram multiple times, I’ve learned the hard way that online spaces don’t always protect us. Here’s why I’m stepping back.

I used to think social media was about connection. Then someone started pretending to be me.

The first time it happened, I laughed it off. A fake Instagram account using my name and photo messaged my friends. “Ignore it,” I told them. “Just a scammer.”

But when it happened again — and again — it stopped being funny. It felt invasive. Like a stranger had broken into my digital home, tried on my skin, and spoke to the world as if they were me.

Instagram, owned by one of the world’s most powerful tech companies, offered no real help. I reported the accounts. So did my friends. Sometimes they disappeared, but others lingered. There was no explanation, no apology, and no sense of safety. Just a form email: “Thanks for your report.” Then silence.

That’s when it hit me: I had handed over my identity to systems I couldn’t control, built by corporations that didn’t seem to care.

This is the shadow side of the internet we all live in now. Where real people feel powerless, and bad actors — from scammers to bots to trolls — thrive. Where “security” means two-factor authentication and endless CAPTCHAs, not peace of mind. Where our faces, voices, and words can be cloned, sold, or stolen, without our consent.

I began to withdraw. Not out of fear, but out of self-respect.

I stopped sharing every photo. I stopped telling the algorithm what I liked. I stopped trusting the blue check mark. And I picked up a notebook.

There’s something sacred in writing with a pen on paper. It’s untraceable. No cookies, no cloud storage. Just you and your thoughts. A space that’s truly yours. I started journaling again — sketching ideas, scribbling poems, planning stories. I remembered how creativity felt before the likes and views.

Sometimes, stepping away isn’t about giving up. It’s about reclaiming something the internet can’t give you: real privacy, slower thinking, and boundaries.

I’m not anti-tech. I still use digital tools. But I use them more deliberately now. I log out. I take weekends offline. I don’t share what I’m not ready to lose. That’s not paranoia — it’s wisdom learned through experience.

If you've ever felt drained, watched, or manipulated by platforms that promise “connection,” you’re not alone. And you’re not wrong.

Security isn’t just about passwords. It’s about feeling safe in your digital skin. And sometimes, that means logging off — and writing your own story by hand.

How can social media platforms make it better for a normal user to report impersonations and misinformation online?