Key Averages
amy aed 🏳️🌈
Instagram Profile
amy aed ️’s Instagram is projected to grow by - / day
Projection based on recent performance trends.Followers Graph

Register for FREE email alerts on sudden spikes or drops in followers for amy aed ️.
- Real-time alerts
- Growth insights
- No card required
amy aed ️ — Instagram Follower Projections
Projected growth from past data. Actuals may vary with trends or algorithm shifts.
Time Until | Date | Followers | Posts | Growth |
---|---|---|---|---|
Live | 13,539 | 515 | — | |
Not enough data. |

amy aed ️ has an Instagram engagement rate of 0.20%
amy aed ️ Historical Stats
Latest 15 entries. Daily follower gains and drops.

Amy Aed ️ can charge up to $1 USD per Instagram post.
Typical range: $0 – $1 USDamy aed ️’s Influence Rate
Export CSVamy aed ️ shows an influence rate of 0.20%, suggesting a reach of ~0 per post.
-
Amy aed ️ (@wandering_everywhere) — 14K FollowersEngagement: 0.20% · Avg. Likes: 0 · Avg. Comments: 27
FAQ – amy aed ️ Instagram Stats
Common questions about amy aed ️’s Instagram analytics.
- as i edit this in a storm in small-town uruguay, i’m reminded of my childhood; in the way paint peels from old walls and stone streets darken under low clouds. it makes me melancholic. vesmir once wrote, ‘home is not a place, but i wish it were; so at least some days i’d know exactly where to go.’ it seems that for me, home is a transient, liminal space that i find in the scent of rain on slate, steel-toed boots resting by the door, the hiss of a kettle and black toast dust in the sink.
- come join me as i buy a church ✨
- i leapt out of a plane over oahu, thinking the fall would be the scariest part; but it wasn’t, because i’m a travel writer who’s afraid of flying. i’ve stayed with indigenous tribes in remote amazonian villages—places so isolated they’d never seen a foreigner before. i’ve slept in a goat-skin tent beneath the stars in the middle east with nomadic men smoking saudi cigars, not a single person knowing where i was. i’ve been kidnapped, attacked by wild animals, and spent way too many nights trusting strangers that arguably i never should have. yet—for the past 48 hours, i’ve been swinging between panic attacks, quiet sobbing, and desperate prayers while boarding four more flights, each one unravelling me in a different way. sometimes i wonder—what sort of travel writer does that make me? why can i look death in the eye in the backseat of a pickup truck on the highway of tears, stay with prolific cocaine dealers and monkey traffickers in bolivia and ecuador, and run away from armed policemen in argentina with my heart barely pounding—and yet, i fall apart at the minor sensation of turbulence? but i will go anyway, carrying my stories, and my fear, with equal reverence. as i type this, i’m preparing to board another flight. my fingers shake as i choose my words. ojalá, everything will be okay.