What My First Year on Instagram Taught Me

An honest look at what happens when a Gen X founder joins Instagram from zero, and the mistakes I hope you won't repeat.

I'm Nuch. I'm a Gen X woman who spent almost twenty years in Silicon Valley tech. I'm also a lifelong jewelry designer who has sold my work at art shows and galleries around the Bay Area.

I also hardly ever used social media. When I worked full time, it just wasn't part of my life. That turned out to matter more than I expected.

This post is the story of my first year on Instagram, starting this January with zero followers. Some of it is embarrassing. I'm sharing it anyway, because I think a lot of new small business owners are standing right where I stood, asking the same questions I asked.

Why I started, and why it was hard

I've designed jewelry my whole life. As an artist, I sold my pieces at art shows and galleries around the Bay Area, and my shows did well. Many people stopped by and bought my work. But making a living as an artist here is hard. The earnings couldn't compete with tech, and selling jewelry takes far more effort than showing up to a 9-to-5. I also had a degree in IT, which paid well. So I kept going back to the office.

Last year I decided to stop. The pressure at work kept building, and I'm going to be 60 soon. Before I know it, I'll be retiring. I want to spend the working years I have left on something I love, something meaningful.

So I started my jewelry business. Most of the pieces I sell are ones I designed myself. And like every small business owner, I learned quickly that you depend on social media.

Starting from zero

My first question was the one everyone asks: who is going to see my post? There are billions of posts out there, and I had nobody.

I posted anyway. Then the DMs started, and I was thrilled. Someone found me.

They were all scammers. They came in every form. One pretended to be a fellow Etsy seller who checked in on me and cheered me on, then steered me toward paying someone for followers. Every one of them wanted my money.

The followers I paid for

I signed up with a growth company I believed was legitimate. It cost me almost $500. Soon, fake followers were arriving on my account every day, and even as a beginner I could tell they weren't real.

I asked them to stop and give my money back. After a lot of back and forth, I ended up canceling my credit card to make it stop.

The scam DMs kept coming. I didn't want to answer them, but I'd heard the algorithm penalizes you if you ignore messages. So I spent my days typing "I'm not interested" to strangers who only wanted my money.

Then I made the choice I regret most. Everyone told me I needed followers. People who visit your profile judge you by the number, not by who those followers are. So I thought: if a big number buys credibility, why not? I started buying followers on purpose.

With help from all those scammers, I reached about 10,000 followers. Almost none of them were real.

What I learned

1. Fake followers leave, and the algorithm notices

Fake followers don't stay. Every day, about 100 of them dropped off my account. To Instagram, a steady stream of unfollows means your content isn't worth showing to anyone.

I can't undo it. I still have about 7,000 followers. Some are probably real, but I'm sure most are not, and they keep leaving. My reach is close to zero.

2. Instagram tests every reel on your followers first

Instagram shows a new reel to your followers first. If they watch to the end, like it, and save it, it gets shown to more people.

Fake followers don't watch anything. So my reels fail that first test before a real person ever sees them. Some days a reel gets one view.

3. Reels that look like ads don't travel

Instagram also holds back reels that look like advertising. That's hard when you sell jewelry. I can make other kinds of reels, but in the end I want to show you my pieces and how beautiful they look on you. That message is simple, and it reads like an ad.

4. Question the "look how busy I am" videos

You've seen them: shipping labels pouring out of a printer, piles of packages filling someone's home. I used to work in tech, where we questioned everything. I've brought that habit to my business.

I'm not saying those sellers aren't real. I'm asking where all those orders come from. When I looked closer, I found $1 and $2 jewelry auctions running nonstop, with people buying and buying.

5. I don't want anyone buying my jewelry on a dopamine hit

Jewelry isn't groceries. How many pieces does one person need? In a race to $1, I wonder who really wins: the seller, the buyer, or the platform.

I know this from the inside. My very first TikTok Live was an auction. I sold one pair of earrings, and because the platform made it free shipping, I paid the postage myself on an $8 sale. I made nothing. More than the money, I didn't like what auctions do to buyers. I never ran one again. Now I sell the old way: if you like a piece, it's yours. If not, that's okay too.

This economy isn't easy, even here in the Bay Area. Even people with money think before they spend. My pieces average $30 to $40. I want you to see a piece, like it, think about it, and then decide it's yours.

Starting over, honestly

I made my mistakes at the very start, and I can't fix that account. So I'm starting a fresh one.

This time I'm not chasing a number. I'm sharing my real story: a 58-year-old woman who left tech to build something of her own, and the jewelry that came out of it.

If you're just starting out, here is what I wish someone had told me in January:

• Never buy followers, from anyone, for any reason.
• A friendly stranger in your DMs who mentions followers or growth is almost always a scam.
• A small, real audience is worth more than a big, fake one.
• Be skeptical of anyone's "overnight success" video, including the ones that make you feel behind.

I'm still learning. If you're on the same road, I'd love to have you along. A real follower is the only kind I want now.

— Nuch, founder of VEESA BY N