The best life advice I ever followed was deleting Instagram, and it soothed my frustrated soul


I won’t lie, I got addicted to Instagram. And for a long time, I didn’t even realize how much it was messing with my head. It sounds dramatic when you say it out loud, but it really crept up on me. I got so used to watching Instagram reels all the time that my brain just stopped having patience for anything longer. A full YouTube video felt like a commitment, and reading something without checking my phone in between felt impossible. And the worst part was, I knew exactly why it was happening.

I tried fixing it the usual ways — set app timers, try apps that stop you from doomscrolling, and tell myself I’d cut down. Some days it worked, most days it didn’t. I’d still find myself opening Instagram without even thinking about it. So one day, I stopped trying to control it and just deleted the app from my iPhone. And honestly, that one small decision did more for me than everything else I had tried.

The first few days were strangely uncomfortable

I thought I’d feel relieved right away, but that’s not how it went. The first thing I noticed was how often I reached for it without thinking. I’d unlock my phone and instinctively swipe to where Instagram used to be — my thumb just knew the spot. It made me realize how deeply the habit had settled in. I kept picking up my phone for no reason, opening it, finding nothing to scroll, and putting it back down. It felt like something was missing, even though I knew I hadn’t lost anything important.

There was this low, constant restlessness. But that phase didn’t last as long as I expected. After a few days, the urge started to weaken. I still had the habit, but it didn’t pull me in the same way. And slowly, that restlessness turned into something quieter. My phone stopped feeling like something I needed to check all the time.

I didn’t realize how much it was affecting how I saw my own life

This part took a little longer to sink in. Instagram has a way of making you feel like you’re just keeping up with people. That’s what I used to tell myself. I’m just scrolling, catching up, passing time, but it really wasn’t that simple.

Every time I opened the app, I saw people traveling, celebrating, looking their best, living what looked like better versions of their lives. And even if I wasn’t consciously comparing, it still affected me. It created this constant background feeling that I was somehow behind. That other people had figured things out better than I had. I didn’t actively think about it, but it was always there, shaping how I felt. Once Instagram was gone, that feeling didn’t have anything to feed on anymore. And slowly, it faded.

My attention span came back, and I actually noticed it

This is something I didn’t expect at all. A couple of weeks in, I sat down to watch a 20-minute video and didn’t feel the urge to skip through it. I just watched it. This sounds like a small thing, but it didn’t feel small to me. Before that, my brain needed constant stimulation. If something didn’t grab me instantly, I’d lose interest. That’s what reels had trained me to expect.

Without that constant loop, things started to change. I could sit with something a little longer. Then a little longer than that. I started reading again, properly reading. Not jumping between paragraphs, not getting distracted every few minutes. It felt like getting a part of my focus back that I didn’t even realize I had lost.

I stopped comparing my life without even trying to

When Instagram was part of my daily routine, I was constantly exposed to other people’s best moments. Trips, milestones, perfect photos, everything looking effortless. I told myself it didn’t affect me that much. But once it was gone, I realized it had been affecting me all along. Because suddenly, there was nothing to compare against.

No constant reminders of what I should be doing or how my life should look. No silent pressure to measure up. And in that space, something changed — I felt more at ease with my own life. Not because anything big had happened, but because I wasn’t constantly looking at someone else’s version of “better.” It was just a steady sense of being okay with where I am.

The quiet I didn’t know I was missing

Deleting Instagram didn’t suddenly turn my life around. I didn’t wake up the next day feeling more productive, more focused, or completely at peace. That kind of overnight change is a myth. What actually happened was much simpler. At first, it just felt like there was less happening. Fewer distractions, fewer impulses to pick up my phone, fewer moments where my attention got pulled away without me realizing it. My days didn’t become perfect, but they became easier to sit through. I wasn’t constantly interrupting myself. Over time, that started to add up.

I noticed I could stay with a thought a little longer. I didn’t feel the need to fill every gap with something to watch. Even boredom felt different; it wasn’t something I needed to escape immediately. Sometimes I just let it be, and that in itself felt new. There was also this unexpected sense of relief. Not loud or overwhelming, just a steady feeling in the background. Like I had stopped carrying something heavy without realizing I was carrying it in the first place. And maybe that’s what changed the most. It wasn’t about gaining something extraordinary; it was actually about losing something unnecessary. The constant noise, the low-level comparison, the habit of reaching for my phone without thinking. All of it slowly faded out. My life didn’t become more exciting. It just became more mine — clearer, calmer, and a lot less crowded in my head.



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In short: Accel has raised $5 billion in new capital, comprising a $4 billion Leaders Fund V and a $650 million sidecar, targeting 20-25 late-stage AI investments at an average cheque size of $200 million. The raise follows standout returns from its Anthropic stake (invested at $183B, now valued near $800B) and Cursor (backed at $9.9B, now reportedly around $50B), and lands in a Q1 2026 venture market that deployed a record $297 billion.

Accel, the venture capital firm behind early bets on Facebook, Slack, and more recently Anthropic and Cursor, has raised $5 billion in new capital aimed squarely at AI. The raise, reported by Bloomberg, comprises $4 billion for its fifth Leaders Fund and a $650 million sidecar vehicle, positioning the firm to write average cheques of around $200 million into late-stage AI companies globally.

The fund lands in a venture capital market that has lost any pretence of restraint. Q1 2026 saw $297 billion flow into startups worldwide, 2.5 times the total from Q4 2025 and the most venture funding ever recorded in a three-month period. Andreessen Horowitz has raised $15 billion. Thrive Capital has closed more than $10 billion. Founders Fund is finishing a $6 billion raise. Accel’s $5 billion is substantial but not exceptional in a market where the biggest funds are measured in the tens of billions.

The portfolio that made the pitch

What distinguishes Accel’s fundraise is the portfolio it can point to. The firm invested in Anthropic during its Series G at a $183 billion valuation. Anthropic has since closed a round at $380 billion and is now attracting offers at roughly $800 billion, meaning Accel’s stake has more than quadrupled in value in a matter of months. Anthropic’s annualised revenue has hit $30 billion, a trajectory that no company in history has matched.

The firm’s bet on Cursor has been similarly well-timed. Accel backed the AI code editor in June 2025 at a $9.9 billion valuation. By November, Cursor had raised again at $29.3 billion. By March 2026, the company was reportedly in discussions at a valuation of around $50 billion. For a developer tool that barely existed two years ago, the appreciation is extraordinary.

Accel’s broader AI portfolio extends beyond these two headline positions. The firm has backed Vercel, the frontend deployment platform; n8n, an AI-powered automation tool; Recraft, a professional design platform; and Code Metal, which builds AI development tools for hardware and defence applications. In March 2026, Accel launched an Atoms AI programme in partnership with Google’s AI Futures Fund, selecting five early-stage companies from what it described as a global applicant pool focused on “white space” opportunities in enterprise AI.

The Leaders Fund model

Accel’s Leaders Fund series is designed for later-stage investments, the kind of large cheques that growth-stage AI companies now require. With an average investment size of $200 million and a target of 20 to 25 deals from the new $4 billion fund, the strategy is concentrated: a small number of high-conviction bets on companies that have already demonstrated product-market fit and are scaling revenue.

This is a different game from traditional venture capital. At $200 million per cheque, Accel is competing less with seed and Series A firms and more with the mega-funds, sovereign wealth funds, and corporate investors that have flooded into late-stage AI. The firm’s argument is that its early-stage relationships and technical evaluation capabilities give it an edge in identifying which companies deserve capital at scale, and in securing allocations in rounds that are massively oversubscribed.

Founded in 1983 by Arthur Patterson and Jim Swartz, Accel built its reputation on what the founders called the “prepared mind” approach, a philosophy of deep sector research before investments materialise. The firm’s most famous prepared-mind bet was its 2005 investment of $12.7 million for 10% of Facebook, a stake worth $6.6 billion at the company’s IPO seven years later. The question now is whether Accel’s AI bets will produce returns of comparable magnitude.

What the market is pricing

The sheer volume of capital flowing into AI venture funds reflects a market consensus that artificial intelligence will be the dominant technology platform of the next decade. The numbers are difficult to overstate. OpenAI raised $120 billion in 2026. Anthropic has raised more than $50 billion. xAI closed $20 billion. Waymo secured $16 billion. These are not venture-scale numbers; they are infrastructure-scale capital deployments that would have been unthinkable outside of telecommunications or energy a decade ago.

For limited partners, the investors who commit capital to venture funds, the logic is straightforward: the returns from AI’s winners will be so large that even paying premium valuations will generate exceptional multiples. Accel’s Anthropic position, where a single investment has appreciated several times over in months, is exactly the kind of outcome that makes LPs willing to commit $5 billion to a single firm’s next fund.

The risk is equally visible. Venture capital is a cyclical business, and the current fundraising boom has the characteristics of a cycle peak: record fund sizes, compressed deployment timelines, and a concentration of capital in a single sector. The last time venture capital raised this aggressively, during the 2021 ZIRP era, many of those investments were marked down significantly within two years. AI’s commercial traction is far stronger than the crypto and fintech bets that defined that earlier cycle, but the valuations being paid today leave little margin for error.

The concentration question

Accel’s fund also highlights a structural shift in venture capital. The industry is bifurcating into a small number of mega-firms that can write cheques of $100 million or more and a long tail of smaller funds that compete for earlier-stage deals. The middle ground, the traditional Series B and C investors, is being squeezed by mega-funds moving downstream and by AI companies that skip traditional funding stages entirely, going from seed round to billion-dollar valuations in 18 months.

For a firm like Accel, which operates across offices in Palo Alto, San Francisco, London, and India, the $5 billion raise is a bet that it can maintain its position in the top tier as fund sizes inflate and competition for the best deals intensifies. Its portfolio of 1,199 companies, 107 unicorns, and 46 IPOs provides a track record. But in a market where Anthropic alone could generate returns that justify an entire fund, the temptation to concentrate bets on a handful of AI winners is strong, and the consequences of getting those bets wrong are correspondingly severe.

The broader picture is that AI venture capital has entered a phase where the funds themselves are becoming as large as the companies they once backed. Accel’s $5 billion raise would have made it one of the most valuable startups in Europe just a few years ago. Now it is table stakes for a firm that wants to participate meaningfully in the rounds that matter. Whether this represents rational capital allocation or the peak of a cycle that will eventually correct is the question that every LP writing a cheque today is, implicitly or explicitly, answering in the affirmative.



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