Good morning! It is 4:19 am as I start to write this, I’ve got coffee next to me and John Wayne in the background, essentially getting my mojo on.
Let’s get down to it. Something that has been weighing on my mind (and my eyes) as I scroll through social media, is this concept of “perfect”. (My girlfriends and I have also had some humorous, if not a wee bit catty… conversations on this as well. I might have been the ringleader. Whoops, I let the bitch out of the bag.)
Anyway, perfect is a load of bullshit.
It feels as though we have gotten so caught up in getting the “perfect” picture, that we forget what made it perfect was all the chaos that got cropped out. I know I am guilty of this as well, I will take the 5,167 pictures to post one (maybe I am just unphotogenic?). What comes across is this happy, (sometimes) pretty, staged picture with a dumb inspirational quote, disregarding the one where the dog ran through my scene and I look like a knucklehead. This constant stream of “perfect” highlights from people’s lives leave me comparing my life, successes, relationship, looks, and money. Hell I even compare to my “real life” friends that are posting on social media. Not only do I think it’s mentally unhealthy, but it’s damn exhausting. Kudos to the people that have it going on, that paint their face on 7 days a week, have mannered dogs, and a significant other who gets an odd satisfaction out of being their personal insta-photographer.
Personally, I want less perfect and more authentic.
Authentic. Hmm, a word that has continually found its way into my thinking and vocabulary over the past year.
Authentic doesn’t mean your life is a shit show (unless it is, in which, please keep posting insta stories, I am loving it), nor does it mean your life is perfect. Authentic is enjoying the small things in life, sharing what makes you smile, and capturing a moment that makes your heart sigh in happiness. Authentic is recognizing that the only way to be “perfect” and show a “perfect” life, is to be genuinely happy and embrace the good with the bad, the supermodel days with the hungover hag days.
Perfect is a rat race that we will never win. I don’t want to look back at my life and think, what a crappy representation of what I’ve done and what I’ve gone through. I want to spend less time on social media (oh my god, why is this so difficult), be present, show the bloopers instead of that edited version, and I want people to be able to relate. I want to get my beer back. I want to enjoy life the way my parents taught me – outside with the sun on my face, spending time with people who make me belly laugh, enjoying all the simple things, even if those involve a little bit of yelling and chaos. I swore I would never say it, but I want to take my parent’s mantra to the world wide web – who the f@%k cares? (Except maybe a bit more tech-savvy than them. Hell, I about had to create a tutorial for my dad to be able to read my blog. Hi dad, I hope you’ve made it back to the blogosphere, keep pushing buttons. I love you!)
I guess I should stop wanting, and start doing. Plus I need to get ready for work. They may in fact care if I show up looking like a hag. As John Wayne would say,
“We’re burning daylight.”
Except, it’s like, dark as shit outside and I need more coffee.
I tried to take a “perfectly authentic” picture of me blogging, without looking like my worst morning-self (I am still new at this and didn’t want to scare you all off quite yet). This was my best attempt. You can see I am a work in progress, I hope you are too. Cheers!
Beer in a Martini World 