The morning of June 27, 2025, should have been like any other day.
I would wake up, make some coffee, schedule the posts I’d drafted the night before, and head to work. During my break, I’d check Instagram—reply to comments, answer DMs, and, without fail, shut down a few Holocaust deniers (an occupational hazard for anyone covering dark history).
But June 27 was anything but normal.
I woke to three notifications—one from Google, two from Instagram. With a sinking feeling, I opened the app. And there it was: a suspension notice. Morbid Kuriosity had been disabled. No warning. Just… gone.
The dreaded screen for every Instagram creator. Or at least, one of them. Morbid Kuriosity was suspended on the 27th of June, 2025
What Happened to Morbid Kuriosity
From the very beginning, Morbid Kuriosity was built on a few unshakable pillars: Dark History, Horror, Mysteries, the Paranormal, Unsolved Cases, and True Crime. For over four years, I’ve been at the helm — researching, writing, curating, and sharing stories that don’t often get told. Stories that disturb, linger, and demand we remember. What started as a one-man passion project quietly evolved into something much larger than me.
I never paid for promotion. Not once. I grew this community during my college years, posting between part-time shifts and late-night assignments, stealing whatever time I could. I wasn’t always perfect, but I tried. I tried to respond, to engage, to shut down misinformation, and — more often than I’d like to admit — to moderate the vile wave of racism and denialism that all creators in the “dark history” niche inevitably face on Meta platforms.
The content I created was almost always static: dense, text-based visuals that pulled readers into the darker corners of human history. That’s what Instagram used to be great for — storytelling through stillness. But as Instagram morphed into a TikTok clone, reach for static posts collapsed. Like thousands of other creators, I was forced to pivot to reels. Not because I wanted to, but because the algorithm demanded it.
Still, Morbid Kuriosity was never about the money. In four years, I never monetized. I turned down ad deals, even when the offers were generous. I refused brand sponsorships, no matter how glossy the proposals. Why? Because this page wasn’t built to sell you something. It was built to give you something — strange stories, haunting truths, and forgotten fragments of reality that demand a second glance.
But over the past year, things have become… heavier.
Since mid-2023, I’ve noticed a disturbing trend. Hateful, misogynistic, and anti-Semitic content began spreading like wildfire across social media. TikTok and Facebook are bad enough. X/Twitter has become a complete free-for-all. But Instagram — perhaps the platform I believed in the most — has been increasingly flooded with violent memes and dehumanizing reels, often wrapped in irony to evade moderation.
I tried reporting them. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Very few were removed.
And I’m not making this up. You can see the proof below — screenshots I took as I watched the same toxic content circulate untouched, while accounts like mine, dedicated to historical accuracy and truth, were penalized, shadowbanned, or worse.
Apparently, it’s perfectly fine on Instagram to spread hateful rhetoric. You can deny the Holocaust, peddle slurs, or post misogynistic garbage — all comfortably protected under the platform’s interpretation of “free speech.” But heaven forbid you post an actual, documented image from history. Suddenly, you’re the problem.
Here’s a concrete example. I once posted about the Bengal Famine — a catastrophic, well-documented event that took millions of lives. The image I used was historical, not sensational. But Meta flagged it for “indecent exposure” and child nudity. The post was immediately removed from both Instagram and Facebook. I appealed on both platforms. Facebook reviewed and reinstated the content. Instagram? They rejected the appeal outright. No questions asked. No explanation given. Same parent company. Two completely different standards.
That double standard, frankly, is exhausting.
What makes this more disturbing is the content that is allowed to thrive. I’ve come across actual pornographic ads on both Instagram and Facebook — not once, not twice, but on three separate occasions over the course of several months. And these weren’t glitches. These weren’t obscure, buried posts. These were ads. Paid, promoted, and algorithmically served. If Meta’s AI was meant to catch this, it would’ve been fixed a long time ago. But big money speaks loudest. Porn companies spend. Meta shrugs.
And that brings me to what actually got me suspended: Copyright.
Let me be clear — I don’t steal content. That’s never been my practice. On the rare occasion I’ve used material created by others, I’ve credited them. The bulk of my posts are original — my research, my writing, my editing. But since Morbid Kuriosity deals with real-life incidents, sometimes I share footage that documents reality as it unfolded: dashcam clips, CCTV footage, or security tapes. These are not cinematic productions. No lighting crew. No director. Just raw moments someone happened to capture.
Now, in my personal view, such footage — caught incidentally and used strictly for awareness or education — should qualify as fair use, especially when there’s no monetization involved. I’ve always believed in that ethos. I’ve let countless creators use my own posts, images, and words freely. That’s what the internet should be about: open knowledge, shared information.
Unfortunately, that’s not how some companies see it.
There are copyright syndicates — ViralHog, Jukin Media, and others — that make their living by preying on creators. Their model is simple: acquire bulk rights to real-life videos, then issue mass copyright takedowns across YouTube, Instagram, Facebook, TikTok — you name it. Once a post is struck down, they reach out, not to educate or mediate, but to demand a fee for reinstatement. A ransom, essentially. This practice is well-documented; a quick look through Reddit or Quora reveals countless creators who’ve fallen into the same trap.
Unfortunately, I ended up among them. Several of my reels were flagged — videos that weren’t taken from films or shows, weren’t part of any scripted content, weren’t even created in the traditional sense. They were just raw footage of unsettling events. But that was enough. I was unaware of these copyright groups at the time. I didn’t know that by sharing what was already circulating widely, I’d be stepping into a monetized minefield.
And that’s what led to my account’s suspension.
What Happened After Morbid Kuriosity Got Suspended?
I appealed the suspension immediately.
Instagram’s system told me the appeal would be reviewed within 24 hours. It’s now been over three weeks. Either someone at Meta is using a different calendar, or time flows very differently inside the Metaverse.
In an effort to actually speak to a human, I upgraded to Meta Pro — a subscription that, in theory, promises prioritized support and real help. What I received, instead, was a frustrating mix of auto-generated replies and customer service that seemed more interested in closing tickets than resolving them.
The support agents were eager, yes — but not in the way you’d hope. They were eager to shut down conversations, redirect to articles I’d already read, and “escalate” my issue into black holes where no updates ever returned. Every answer was paraphrased corporate fluff I could’ve found with a quick Google search.
I pushed harder. I submitted follow-ups. I opened new tickets. And then, it got worse.
After just two support sessions, Meta Pro support chat was locked. I was told I’d have to wait 48 hours before I could submit another ticket. This wasn’t stated anywhere in their Terms of Service. And considering I’m paying for this so-called “premium” support, the fact that they limit access to help — after failing to deliver results — may very well be in violation of consumer protection laws in both Canada and the U.S.
Instagram showing their best Meta Pro service. Needless to say, it was worse than anything I have seen. And I have seen some terrible customer service.
At this point, I turned to the internet for answers. I dove deep into Reddit, especially the subreddit r/instagramdisabledme — and what I found was sobering. I wasn’t alone. In fact, I had stumbled into the middle of a storm. Hundreds — maybe thousands — of creators were being banned daily, often accused of CSE (Child Sexual Exploitation) with no evidence, no recourse, and no real path to resolution. Lives were being upended by automated systems and cold silence.
Some users suggested writing to the Attorney General of your province or state. A few shared email addresses they claimed had worked for them. I tried those too.
No replies. Not one.
How it is going on right now?
After more than two and a half weeks of emailing Meta fruitlessly every day, I decided to move forward legally. I signed up for LegalShield and spoke to a British Columbian representative, who transferred me to their agent in California. I am currently working with the lawyer down there, who has drafted a demand letter, and we will be forwarding it to Meta. As of writing this, I estimate damages worth $6,500 CAD have been incurred to me.
Based on the reply that we will get from Meta (or — knowing Meta — the lack of reply), we would be proceeding with Small Claims, and suing the company for unfair business practices. Many people might think that this is petty, but in a digital landscape where brands depend heavily on their online presence, I believe that it is paramount that Meta should be held accountable for the time, energy, and resources that this company has made me waste. They retain your data and profit off it, but can rarely be held accountable for their own actions?! Especially in this racist cesspool of hate that they have created and refuse to take down? For example, take a look at this rant some kid, who is just 16 or 17, went on about. All because of the color of one’s skin. And Instagram never responded or took it down.
The teenager who wrote this is still active on Instagram and runs a “meme” page dehumanizing people of color. Let us try to remember what happened the last time things like these were rampant.
Two days ago, by the way, Meta decided that my Threads account (which is directly integrated into Instagram) is not violating anything after all, and quietly reinstated it. Despite this clearly showing that there is nothing against my Instagram, Meta has been refusing to reinstate my account — or even worse, they haven’t even looked at the “less than 24-hour appeal.” And me, as a consumer, have no idea how much longer I have to wait. I looked this up on Reddit, and alarmingly, saw that people from February 2025 still have the same message blaring on their screens with no resolution. So how long do I have to wait, Meta?
We get back to you in 24 hours… at least have the decency to update that, Meta. Anyway, you will be hearing from my lawyer.
