The other day I was catching up on Hannah Witton’s blog, and read her post about the truth behind her Instagram posts. Then, not even a couple days later, I noticed that the wonderful Grace Latter did also did a post about her own Instagram honesty. It got me thinking about my own little white lies that hid behind my Instagram captions.
Okay, maybe not lies. I’m generally quite good with Instagram in that I don’t force myself to post if I don’t want to. As much as I’d love to keep my engagement up and post pretty pictures all day e’rrday, I don’t because 1) who has the time and 2) my life isn’t always a beautfully filtered Instagram picture, and I’m not gonna go around pretending it is, even if it does mean going a couple of weeks without a peep.
However, I’d be lying if I told you I was keeping it 100% real in every single square on my feed. Of course, there are things I’ve omitted and swept under the rug, because as wonderful as Instagram can be, no one wants to be brought back down to earth by ‘real life’ stuff.
Here are some tiny truth behind my Instagram pictures.
S U N D A Y Had a great weekend, with the perfect balance of laziness and productivity. I moved into my new digs (same house, different room, long story 😂) and did a lot of writing. Lots of personal writing towards ~a thing~. I never realised that writing about past stuff that you've kept buried for so long would be so difficult to access. I guess that's what happens when you keep stuff bottled up, amiright? But I guess I'm getting a form of free therapy through ART. Or something.
While I did do a fair bit of writing that weekend, it was mostly on the Sunday, mostly blog stuff, and not as much towards ~the thing~ as I would have liked. I did, however, spend a lot of time thinking about ~the thing~ and accessing old memories I never thought I would want relive again. That doesn’t sound quite as productive though, does it? Which is why I felt like I needed to sound like I was being more productive than I actually was (though I think thinking about a big project is JUST AS VALID as actually doing it. Maybe).
Ah, the classic ‘I got the chop so let’s document it with a selfie.’ This is probably one of my most ~successful~ selfies but honestly, I didn’t want to take it. I felt obliged to take this photo, because hats what I’ve been conditioned by social media to do. I was in the midst of an argument with a friend and was still feeling pretty angry, and the last thing I wanted to do was put a camera (phone) in my face. Also, I didn’t mention in the caption, or anywhere really, that my hairdresser kinda fucked up the back of my hair, and I now have a mini bald patch that I have to keep combing over until it grows back.
There’s a park around 10 minutes from my work that I go and eat lunch in if the weather is nice. This particular lunchbreak, before I snapped this picture, I spent silently crying because of something that happened at work and it left me feeling overwhelmed and anxious. Making my way back to work, I spotted this house and thought I’d distract myself by posting it on Instagram, sans sad commentary, obvs.
I've been a bit AWOL this week due to new job/new city/new life malarkey. I've been experiencing what I can only describe as a minor form of culture shock, because adjusting to London living is something else. Starting from the bottom at a new career, getting up at 6am to commute in, absorbing all the new things, new sights and new people. I'm slowly getting into the swing of things. This weekend, I'll be taking it easy. It's gonna be all about blogging and writing and mindful colouring, and finally getting round to unpacking properly. Oh, and lots of coffee. Bliss. #whimsicafé
I kept it pretty real in this post, but what I had neglected to mention was that the ‘mild form of culture shock’ was actually kind of regretting uprooting my life, and being so far away from most of my friends and the life I once knew. I feel better now, and definitely more settled and focused, but at the time I was definitely second-guessing my Big Move and wondering if I had made a huge mistake.
My friend Lucy and I went to Glasgow for a weekend to see some of her friends she met on a semester abroad at uni, and let’s just say Glasweigan’s know how to party, even if the shops do stop selling alcohol after 10pm. On the Sunday we drove up to the highlands for a cute pub lunch and a walk, but I was suffering miserably on a two-day hangover. Everyone else seemed to be coping fine, and I wanted so desperately to enjoy myself and not be such a misery guts but I couldn’t take my mind off my damp feet and my pounding head.
Well, just call me Jim Carey because I’m a Liar, Liar. I’m sorry if it seems like there was a little bit of negativity behind some of these photos, but honestly, I don’t see it that way. If anything, choosing to overlook the crap that’s really going on behind the scenes is actually just focusing on the good amongst the choas. If we were all 100% honest in all of our Instagram captions, I don’t think many of us would make it through the day.
I know social media acts like a ‘highlight reel’ of someone’s life, only showcasing the good bits and neglecting to mention the bad. And we should fully acknowledge that no one’s life is all sunshine and roses all of the time. But how about we spin things into the positive? How about we commend people like me, like Grace, like Hannah, for choosing to focus on the good parts of our day, even if it was largely shitty. I don’t even think I’m lying in my Instagram, not really. I don’t think I’m purposefully trying to paint my life in a more filtered and ‘glamorous’ light. I think, like many of us, I am just trying to use the platform to highlight the positive points in my ordinary, everyday life.
And if that means ignoring some of the bad stuff for a bit, then so be it.
Are you guilty of the odd fib or white lie in your social media posts?