I’ve felt pretty disengaged with social media recently. I’ve been questioning a lot whether I would feel more free without it in my life (I probably love JK Rowling's tweets too much to actually act on this feeling but you get the vibe).
I think the feeling is related to the fact that I’ve been thinking a lot about the unhealthy nature of portraying a perfect life on social media. This is an issue being discussed more and more, and I think there are many out there who are becoming wiser about it every day. A lot of us are learning to a) take whatever people are posting on social media with a pinch of salt and b) to not succumb to the belief that everyone but you is leading a perfect, Instagram-worthy life.
Because no one is.
And yet, I still see all of us feel the pressure of social media all the time. It’s supposed to be a bit of fun, yet it’s turned into this huge aspect of our lives and many feel like they have to put across a certain image via these platforms.
An image that not only portrays that life is going well, but that life is going really well. Impossibly well.
Life can be going well, but nothing will ever be perfect. That’s just the way it is. So it is literally impossible to have a life that can live up to social media, and if we continue to aim for that 'social media perfection', we will constantly be disappointed in all walks of life.
So here’s a few random facts from recent life that haven’t made it to social media; call it a friendly reminder to take a break from your phone, don’t allow social media to fuel anxiety and to always remember that even the most perfect-instagram-account-holder probably has food stains on their dressing gown.
Yeah, so, there is currently a food stain on my dressing gown. I mean, it’s small, but still means my extremely fluffy friend needs to go in the wash. But it would take forever to dry and, quite frankly, I’m not prepared to go without my dressing gown for the day or two it would take. So, er, I’m just wandering around in a food-stained dressing gown. I don’t really know how this situation will resolve itself tbh.
The heating situation in our flat is poor. I Instagram gorgeous shots of the view of the cathedral from our front windows and the Hertfordshire countryside from our back windows… but our bathroom is like a fridge and sometimes there’s a bit of damp smell.
Whilst we’re discussing the flat, there’s a small chunk of ceiling missing from our back room. The plaster just fell down one day. So that’s nice.
I’ve been known to get so anxious about things [that one really shouldn’t get anxious about] that I get heart palpitations. It’s a joy.
I’m friggin’ awful at eating enough fruit and veg. I have good intentions but, well, bread.
I need a wee. But it’s too much of an effort to get off the sofa *insert shrug emoji*.
G just opened the fridge. The fridge smells.
The air conditioning situation in my office has got so dire that I’ve started taking an extra pair of socks into work with me. WHY ARE THEY TRYING TO TURN ME INTO AN ICE CUBE.
The other day, I was having a perfectly fine afternoon and then I burst into tears randomly. THERE WAS NO REASON. G just had to sit with me whilst the wave of irrational anxiety/hormones passed. I’m such a laugh to be around.
Earlier, I googled ‘how to wear a beret’. Because I momentarily forgot how to put a hat on my head apparently.
Most of the photos on my phone camera roll are of bath bombs and my dinner. Try not to be jel of my exciting life.
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