The universe doesn’t care that it’s my birthday, so I have to do things today to remind myself that it is. Like writing this post. Like getting a pedicure. Like drinking a vanilla spice latte. Moments we cling to when our lives scream chaos and craziness.
I follow many blogs — mostly written by females, who like me are in their 30s with children. One of my favorites is by a friend who recently wrote about the world we project via our blogs, our Instagram photos, our Facebook statuses. If all we do is follow each other online, an inaccurate life emerges. It’s not false, but it’s not completely true. And how could it be?
What’s at stake are our own esteems and ideas of what motherhood and our 30s are supposed to look like. I feel this way almost every day. Imperfect. Blogs, online photos, and statuses are the new Cosmopolitan. But instead of paging through a magazine full of models once a month, we’re haunted by each other’s images daily. We click “like”; we share links with our friends. But deep down we feel a bit insecure or depressed or jealous that our pictures aren’t as good or our day wasn’t as beautiful or our life isn’t as fulfilling and rich as everyone around us.
This is not to say that I will stop reading these blogs or deactivate my Facebook account because there are so many positives, too. But I have to constantly remind myself to stop overanalyzing the online world we all project. Because it’s just that — a world we project.
That’s one reason I chose to tell my story backward from this moment instead of forward. I wrote my journals — in the moment — not for an audience. They, too, will only tell a partial truth, but I hope this blog reveals more of who I am because I often write when I’m unhappy or reflective, which are characteristics I don’t always project in my everyday life, especially my digital one.