Its Upsetting Me And My Homegirl

Okay, so, listen. Me and my homegirl, we're going through it. Not, like, a crisis, crisis. More like a... mild turbulence situation. You know, when the plane bumps a little and you grip your armrests and make awkward eye contact with the person next to you? Yeah, that's us.

The root of all evil? Well, not evil. That's dramatic. Let's say "the root of all mild annoyance bordering on existential dread?"... is social media. Surprise, surprise, right?

It all started innocently enough. We were scrolling, as one does. We saw someone from high school, who, let's be honest, peaked in sophomore year (remember those questionable frosted tips, Kevin? Yeah, we do), is now apparently a world-renowned artisanal cheese sculptor. I'm not even kidding. Cheese. Sculpture.

And suddenly, the question looms: What are we doing with our lives?!

I mean, I like my job. Mostly. It pays the bills, allows me to buy copious amounts of caffeine, and sometimes I get to wear pajamas to work. But artisanal cheese sculpture? That sounds... interesting.

My homegirl's in the same boat. She's a fantastic graphic designer, but seeing another influencer with a perfectly curated Instagram feed traveling the world and sipping overpriced cocktails makes her question everything. Does she need a pet llama? Should she start a blog about aggressively mediocre houseplants? The possibilities are terrifying.

We started comparing ourselves. Bad move. Like, major bad move. It's like voluntarily jumping into a pool of self-doubt and regret. Don't do it. I'm warning you.

The Downward Spiral (aka The Pity Party)

First came the questions: Are we good enough? Are we successful enough? Are we…cheese sculpture-y enough?

Then came the snacks. Because, naturally, when existential dread hits, you need comfort food. And for us, that means an entire family-sized bag of chips (shared, of course, because we're not monsters) and a marathon viewing of reality TV.

It's a vicious cycle, really. We watch people on TV doing questionable things for fame and fortune, which makes us feel even worse about our perfectly normal, non-cheese-sculpting lives, which then leads to more snacks. Rinse and repeat.

Seriously, I think my couch is starting to judge me.

The worst part is, we know it's ridiculous! We know social media is just a highlight reel. We know everyone's putting their best foot forward (and probably using a filter). But that doesn't stop the little voice in the back of our heads from whispering, "Maybe you should have taken that mime class in college..."

The Great Escape (aka Snapping Out Of It)

So, how did we escape the clutches of the artisanal cheese sculptor and her seductive, lactose-laden lifestyle? Well, it involved a long, heart-to-heart talk (fueled by even more caffeine, naturally), and a healthy dose of reality.

We realized that comparing ourselves to others is a fool's errand. Everyone's on their own path, running their own race. And, frankly, some people are just better at faking it on Instagram.

We also remembered all the things we actually like about our lives. My homegirl loves her cats (even when they're shedding all over her black clothes), and I'm obsessed with my collection of vintage teacups. We have good friends, supportive families, and reasonably functional kidneys. What more could we ask for?

Okay, maybe a winning lottery ticket. But that's beside the point.

We decided to focus on our own goals, our own passions, and our own slightly-above-average lives. We also made a pact to limit our social media consumption to, like, five minutes a day. Okay, maybe ten. But still! It's progress!

And, you know what? It's working. We're feeling less envious, more grateful, and definitely more energetic (probably from all the caffeine). We even started a new project together – a blog about aggressively mediocre houseplants. Just kidding! (Mostly.)

So, the next time you find yourself comparing yourself to someone else online, remember the artisanal cheese sculptor. Remember the influencer sipping cocktails on a beach. And remember that real life is happening offline, in all its messy, imperfect, and utterly wonderful glory.

Go hug your cat (or your teacup collection), and tell yourself you're awesome. Because you are. Even if you don't sculpt cheese.