We eat, we sleep, we check Instagram, we repeat without realising that it isn’t real. Mindlessly we follow influencer celebs we scroll through their photos like them share them, than after we start wondering how luxurious lifestyle they’re having isnt it? For many of us it’s a dream to look like them perfect hairs, skin and ohh what not. I still remember to get on ig because i qoute ,” i was forever taking photos “so why not to document them? But i had serious issues with self confidence and accepting what I was, when other clearly had such negative opinion about me. When mumma used to take photo of me,it would fill me with anxiety as all i can see was my flaws and i was paranoid that other will too notice it. I imagined the hate i would get and it filled me with dread. Social media was created to be positive outlet. A platform for people to express them but now turned into a Avenue of negetivity. If anyone post something which public doens’t like they’re taken down with a viciously overwhelming injection of cyberbullying. Are we truly aware of how many times we pick our phones to look at others people perfectly curated online life. Which isn’t real trust me! I’ve forced myself to unfollowing influencers because it usually sets a tone of my day. While getting out to my school, influencer xyz is getting off to London posting a picture with a perfect look. It gets to you after a while. You realise your hair isn’t perfect, your outfit’s average and that makes me unhappy. Lately realising that they too have a different life behind insta glame image which is not perfect and set . I think twice before posting. I wonder is my hair perfect am i showing my cleavage too much ? They’ll start
judging me and getting unsolicited messages from strangers pokes from long lost acquaintances. Now realising that i shouldn’t give a fuck what people think about me. In what real life world poking someone is okay? But it’s Just online. You don’t really feel it!
The Journey Begins
Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton
