RIP @JillianAmanda.Designs

I h*te Instagram. I had an instagram account that was everything to me. It was an account that I started when I was 16 that I was DEVOTEDDD to. It was a beautiful space that displayed my developmental growth as both an individual and as an artist. I made it initially in high school as I rediscovered drawing. It was with me as I made the decision to go to art school and start my own Etsy shop. It was with me as I interned at a publication house and illustrated my first children’s book. It showcased all 100 drawings from my first solo exhibition. On my Instagram, you saw me and my art as I fell in love for the first time. You also saw that same love tear me apart into 8 million different pieces and my fight for a will to live. Eventually, you saw as I learned to love myself, and then love myself maybe too much. I posted about the three shitty tattoos I gave and how they were very bad and I decided I never wanted to do that again. And you definitely saw as I bounced from job to job as I tried to find my place in this world. But don’t worry, I haven’t found it yet. Updates to come. I overshared in every single caption about every bad date I went on, job I got fired from, fight I was in with my mom, and the crazy things my roommates would say. This Instagram showed my growth as a person and as an artist for 9 years on a very personal and honest level. All my work contacts, articles I was featured in, all my commissions and projects were linked to that account. I also had a lot of old artwork posted that I don’t have anywhere else.

Then in January 2025 I logged in to post about the launch of my website and my new phone cases and Instagram told me they deleted my account because my account was “in association with another account that is breaking the policy agreement.” No further information was provided and I lost everything. SO I H*TE INSTAGRAM and here is a dump of some of the silly little posts I love that lived there and are now homeless.