"Misha had built her world around reaching one million followers," her family wrote. "When her numbers began to fall, she felt worthless. She cried often, saying, 'What will I do if my followers decrease? My career will be over.”
"She was overwhelmed. And she left us," her family said. "Our loss is unimaginable."
On April 24, 2025, just days before her 25th birthday, Misha Agrawal, a content creator and aspiring legal professional, died by suicide. Despite her educational achievements, like preparing for the judiciary, Misha's identity had become so entwined with digital validation that a drop in Instagram followers shattered her sense of self.
We must ask ourselves: when did we start measuring human worth in “followers” and “likes"?
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The Day We Traded Self-Worth for Metrics
We log in to create. To share art/content. To feel seen. But somewhere along the way, “likes” replaced love. “Followers” replaced self-worth. And suddenly, we stopped being people. We became a performance.
Think about your own relationship with social media. How many times have you posted something and checked your phone obsessively afterwards? How many times have you deleted a post that didn't ‘perform well’? At what point did your day become better or worse based on engagement numbers?
The metrics start speaking louder than our inner voice. Likes, shares, reach. They clap louder than our thoughts, our achievements, our real-world connections. And we start listening to them more than ourselves. We don't realise when we cross the line. When validation becomes oxygen. When ‘growth’ becomes our worth. When losing followers feels like losing identity.
One unfollow, one dip in reach. And you're spiralling, not because you're weak, but because the internet taught you: if you're not seen, you don't exist.
The Silent Crisis of Creator Burnout
We glamorise the grind. But no one talks about the crash. About sleepless nights, endless comparisons, the quiet collapse behind curated joy. The burnouts. The breakdowns. The creators bleeding behind captions that read ‘doing great!’ How do we survive in a world that won't let us pause?
Misha's story isn't just about one creator. It's about almost all of us. When does a platform become a prison and not a stage to express oneself freely without fearing backlash? When did art become a scoreboard? What happens when the dream you built starts falling apart on the screen that never hugs you back?
Influencers Facing Financial Crisis: The Hidden Reality
The economic instability of a creator’s life remains largely invisible to audiences who see only the highlighted reels. Behind every glamorous post lurks profound financial anxiety.
Consider Zorawar Ahluwalia, who recently shared, "I have been struggling financially which has been giving me a lot of stress and gives a sense of feeling that I am not where I thought I would be." Despite his brave words about resilience, the admission reveals the precarious nature of an influencer’s income.
Image Courtesy: @zorawarahluwalia/Instagram
Even more tragically, in February, Chinese cosplay influencer Shi Ye, better known as Maoyouyou, died at 24 after sharing that she had been unable to eat due to financial struggles. Her family later confirmed her passing to the South China Morning Post, stating they would keep her social media accounts active as memorial spaces.
These are not isolated incidents but symptoms of a system that encourages people to build their livelihoods on the shifting sands of algorithms and attention spans. When your identity and income become inseparable from your online presence, a decrease in engagement isn't just disappointing, it's existentially threatening.
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The Questions We Need to Ask Ourselves
Ask yourself honestly, “Would I still create if no one clapped?” “What happens when the likes stop?” “Would I still matter if I weren't seen? Is my worth tied to a screen?”
Now, it’s our turn to ask: Who are you without the followers? Will you still love yourself when no one is watching?
It's okay to want growth. But not at the cost of your peace. Not when it starts to hurt. Not when you forget who you are without the internet.
Breaking Free From the Algorithm's Grip
I don't write this to vilify social media. These platforms have indeed democratised creativity, built communities, launched careers, and connected people across vast distances. But they were never designed to be the sole arbiters of our worth.
We need to recognise the difference between using social media as a tool and allowing it to use us. We need to remember that algorithms are designed to maximise engagement, not wellbeing. They're programmed to keep us refreshing, posting, comparing—not to remind us of our inherent value as humans.
If you're reading this and hurting, take a breath. Talk to someone. Step back if you need to. Your life is bigger than a platform. And you are so much more than numbers.
The Human Behind the Handle
To Misha and to everyone who got lost in the blur, you were never your numbers. You are not a metric. You are a human. Your art is yours. Not the algorithm's. You are more than your screen. You are more than your numbers. A family waits for you, silent admirers cheer for you. Even if you can't hear it, it's there.
Because if Instagram disappeared tomorrow, you would still be you. Complete. Worthy. Enough.
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Don't Miss:Popular Influencer Misha Agrawal Dies By Suicide: Was Depressed Due To Declining IG Followers
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