My Real Life is Messier Than My Insta-Life

I share A LOT of my life via social media. I post daily photos and stories (often multiple times) to Facebook, Instagram, Insta-stories and the blog. I am very open and honest about my life, but that doesn’t mean I share EVERY aspect of my life. When it comes to social media we all post what we want others to see. We crop, edit, add filters, choose whatever clever caption we want and we curate a depiction of our lives for our followers. Even though my images and tales appear transparent to most of you, I am typically selecting the highlights of my days to share…and then editing them because I don’t actually want you to see my acne, dark circles, frizzy hair or whatever else looks revolting on any particular day. Nearly all people I follow do the same. Mostly, it doesn’t bother me. I KNOW their Instagram feeds aren’t actual representations of their lives, but on a bad day? It really bothers me. On a uugghhh my life is such a hot mess day, those perfect social media queens make me want to cry and wonder why my life can’t be so perfect and beautiful. Fearful that I may be ruining someone else’s day with a “perfect post” last week, I changed things up a bit.

After a particularly rough day, I was nursing Dash and scrolling Instagram (because what else can you do?). I began wishing that someone would just post a pic of themselves looking real, like REAL real. I wanted to see a Mom with spit-up on her shirt, in public, leaking through her clothes, toting a screaming baby, while trying to take a work call and then realizing she forgot to put on shoes.  Then, it hit me…why don’t I post what’s really going on in my life?  So, I did. On Facebook and Instagram last week, I shared little bits of what was really happening with our days. My hope was simply to make someone else feel a bit better about themselves. I wanted someone to look at my failures or honest stories and think Thank God! I’m not alone!  or  At least I’m less of a mess than her! Either way, I’d feel like I did someone a favor.

I want to do the same for you! I want you to know that you aren’t the only one losing their shit. You aren’t the only one who looks at other people’s posts and wonders why their life is so perfect. Just know that the truth is that their life is so NOT perfect. Remember the grass is always greener when it’s fake, and that’s what social media mostly is, fake.  It’s not that everyone is lying or out to make other people feel bad. Most of us just want to share the highlights, the happy parts! I want everyone to see my smiling babies, not the 487 pics of them screaming while I tried to force them to smile. I want to talk about the gorgeous and challenging hikes from our recent adventures, not the fights I had with my Husband over getting lost. I mean my username is “Positively Panicked”… I try to keep it positive, but over the past few years I’ve had friends and followers comment on my”perfect life”, and that is just not the case.

I’m happy and positive and I post some pretty pics, but one photo of my day is not ” the whole picture”. Next time you’re scrolling through your favorite feeds and feeling kinda bad about your messy house, fussy babies, giant pores, frozen pizza or lack of vacation time, keep in mind that NO ONE has it all. Not even the gorgeous Insta-model with 52 thousand followers and the phenomenal wardrobe (that she’s being paid to wear). So enjoy the pretty pictures and remember that your life has some pretty awesome perks too. Then vent to your friends about the crappy parts because the more open and honest we are about our struggles, the more others open up about their and the quicker we all realize that we aren’t alone. Oh, and don’t forget to laugh about some of those epic failures… you have to admit, realizing you’re ordering coffee with a baby poop stain on the front of your white shirt is pretty funny.

Cheers!

P.S. Feel free to share your own “real life” moment in the comments!

One Reply to “My Real Life is Messier Than My Insta-Life”

  1. Sweetie, no body’s world is perfect. Some people want others to believe so to make them look better than yours. Here I sit on my orange cushioned swing by myself cause no one wants to talk to me. I wish cell phones had never hit this planet, can’t go to the bathroom without it can’t play cards or games without stopping to check emails. That is my biggest complaint. Boy I must be butter-cause I am on a roll!!! I think you are beautiful. Sorry to bend your ear. I am leaving for Florida Aug. one and suppose to return sometime in Sept. I will be thinking about you while I’m gone. You were the best teacher I worked for

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