Reality vs. IG
Social media is a hell of a drug. Most people post their shiniest, brightest, and best moments or at least the self-deprecating moments that are entertaining. For the people who do err on the side of sharing wildly negative things about their personal life, we all kind of assume that they are either a) attention seeking; b) struggling with some serious mental health issues; or c) of our parents generation and lack the filter we all had to learn from trial by fire in middle school (don’t worry, they will probably get there eventually...maybe...actually better to just sink our hope into the next gen).
I’ve known this for a quite while and I, like everyone else who is on social media somewhat consistently, understand the struggle our conscious and subconscious mind battles out as we consume this. We are both perpetrators of and victims to the dynamic.
Recently, I’ve come to realize the perception my social media has created. I recently packed up my identity and kicked off a life adventure. I moved ALL (and I mean all) the way around the world, away from my friends and family. I haven’t worked in a traditional work environment for three months (which isn’t to say I haven’t worked hard on our land). And I moved from the city of Seattle to the rural hills of Western Australia. On the surface, I did a life 180.
Upon a deeper view, I didn’t change my life that much. Whether in the PNW or in WA (Western Australia... and yes I get the irony of moving from WA, USA, to WA, Australia) I’ve always invested most in the people I love. My foundation of love and support in Washington, made it possible for me to have the confidence and courage to pursue the love and support I have in my partner and our lives in Western Australia.
I love my life here. I know with complete and total certainty that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. And I would argue, that my social media typically reflects the joy and absurdities of that.
But what I gather from some of the messages I’ve gotten both from my close friends and from friends slightly more removed, is that they think that is the whole picture. That I actually stumbled into a perfect happy ending and it is just that, perfect and happy. I really hate to break it to you... it’s just not.
One evening, I woke up to a cockroach crawling on my neck.
Another evening a mosquito kept us up for an hour and a half before I just decided to hide out in the bathroom while my partner hunted it like a stealthy maniac.
For over a week, a tiny (albeit adorable) rat kept us up by scattering in our ceiling. We then later found that rat, courtesy of our foster pup, dead on one of our bike wheels. Cute.
Another night I was trapped at the bottom of the stairs because a cute little mouse was in front of the upstairs which leads to our studio. I wanted that mouse dead, but I am a GD sucker for little babies so I sure as shit wasn’t about to kill it. I just waited for about five minutes until it scampered off. A few days later, I found it dead on our property and had to throw it away.
We’ve dealt with ants, fruit flies, house flies, horse flies, mice, rats, cockroaches. You name it. Everyone told me to be afraid of sharks and snakes but I haven’t seen jackshit on that front. My horrors that I dealt with in Seattle however followed me here but are cuter and therefore more conflicting. Cool cool cool cool cool.
[Just to clarify, our home sounds disgusting but it’s not. It’s just the reality of living in temporary housing on 13 acres that is an active workzone (while we build our new home and shape our land) in an extremely warm climate.]
Outside of just the critters, I’ve also had to navigate real life. Fun fact about me: I dislike trying new things. My assumption is that I will not be good at them ever or at least without a lot of work and I fear the embarrassment and disappointment I assume the people around me will inevitably feel when they realize I’m not actually that cool (an exciting little trait I picked up at a young age). I was able to deal with this relatively well by just avoiding new shit for most of my life. But it’s a luxury I cannot afford here. All the big things are the same: suburbs, city, humans. But all the little things are different: drive on the right side of the car but on the left side of the road, learn to bike, learn to ebike, learn to drive a motorcycle, try to maneuver an excavator and scissor lift, learn new slang (including my coffee order), be around men almost exclusively (after having largely only been around my lady tribe in the states). Transition from long distance to live-in partner. Finding a new yoga studio (which is essentially a placement holder for therapy for me) after having trained with the same teachers for over four years. Taking on a rescue dog (with a propensity for getting slightly lost and accidentally running away), in addition to our puppy who has had a handful of medical issues pop up. Honestly I could keep going but I won’t because it’s boring and overly dramatic.
My point is this: I’ve had a lot of hard moments since I moved. They may all seem trivial to some, but the aggregate of them has been difficult for me. Some of my friendships have not transitioned as easily as I thought it would. I consistently have bruises all over my legs and mild acne all over my chin, courtesy of my weak european immune system. My partner and I are trying to manage the very real responsibilities and stressors we are facing during major transitions in both our lives. I barely know anyone else besides my partner which means, as a deeply empathetic person, my emotions are sometimes tied too closely his (and vice versa), which means we can create waves in each others days that we hadn’t intended. I still think I have to prove my worth since I am not contributing financially currently. There are times where I am short and kind of mean to my partner because my patience is thinner than I’d like it to be. It took me over a month to actually build up the courage to even try a yoga studio here. I am constantly learning, constantly uncomfortable, constantly trying to redefine how I evaluate and value myself.
Instagram does not show this. Nor should it, to some extent. This is my journey (and my partners). I deserve the right to navigate it however I need. But what Instagram does get right is all the reasons why I stay, all the reasons I feel calmer in my soul than I have in a while, all the reasons I know to my core I am where I am supposed to be.
By almost all measures, I am healthier than I have been in years. I am learning to embrace my body in all of it’s realities (including allowing myself to become the silver fox I have been hiding for almost a decade). But more than that... I have an incredibly loving partner. We built a strong foundation over the last year and a half of long distance. We aren’t reliant on sex to appease each other or smooth over wrong doings. We have honest and open dialogue that we use to maneuver through life together. Every month, we’ve done our rose and thorns of our life together. We make a safe space to err whatever has been festering and then we both think on what the person has said and make actual action items for how to improve it. I don’t have a boyfriend, I have a partner. We care deeply about each other and our collective (and individual) happiness. We own our shit, even when it is ugly and hard. We see love as an action as much as a feeling. The other day we both were just struggling, for our own reasons, but he stopped me in the kitchen and asked for a hug and we sat there in that moment for a very long time. I felt safe and loved and seen and I was reminded of why every level of discomfort I’ve felt through this transition and leading up to it is worth it. Not to mention, he is sexy AF. Sorry, but just had to note it.
I guess the reason why I am sharing this is to remind people that life will never be perfect. There is not a single person whose love will just magically fix you. There isn’t a life change that will just heal all your wounds and imperfections. Wherever you go, there you are. So direct your life in a direction towards authenticity; towards a life where you can be exactly who you are without fear, where you can grow the best parts of yourself while confronting the worst and accepting that you contain both... and so does everyone else. Choose a life where you can be your whole self, where you don’t have to be tough or happy or funny all the time. You can be soft, and sad, and quiet. I chose a life of self love, granted not as early as I wish I could have, but that life of self love has attracted even greater love to my life. My friends, my family, and now my partner, have allowed me to enjoy the highs you see on Instagram while wading through the lows you don’t.
In my experience, being content in your life is more important than anything else. Happiness, like sadness, is a temporary emotion. Don’t make permanent decisions over temporary moments. Do the hard work to find your truest self and your deepest joy. My life damn sure isn't perfect but I wouldn't trade it for the world.
I’ve known this for a quite while and I, like everyone else who is on social media somewhat consistently, understand the struggle our conscious and subconscious mind battles out as we consume this. We are both perpetrators of and victims to the dynamic.
Recently, I’ve come to realize the perception my social media has created. I recently packed up my identity and kicked off a life adventure. I moved ALL (and I mean all) the way around the world, away from my friends and family. I haven’t worked in a traditional work environment for three months (which isn’t to say I haven’t worked hard on our land). And I moved from the city of Seattle to the rural hills of Western Australia. On the surface, I did a life 180.
Upon a deeper view, I didn’t change my life that much. Whether in the PNW or in WA (Western Australia... and yes I get the irony of moving from WA, USA, to WA, Australia) I’ve always invested most in the people I love. My foundation of love and support in Washington, made it possible for me to have the confidence and courage to pursue the love and support I have in my partner and our lives in Western Australia.
I love my life here. I know with complete and total certainty that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. And I would argue, that my social media typically reflects the joy and absurdities of that.
But what I gather from some of the messages I’ve gotten both from my close friends and from friends slightly more removed, is that they think that is the whole picture. That I actually stumbled into a perfect happy ending and it is just that, perfect and happy. I really hate to break it to you... it’s just not.
One evening, I woke up to a cockroach crawling on my neck.
Another evening a mosquito kept us up for an hour and a half before I just decided to hide out in the bathroom while my partner hunted it like a stealthy maniac.
For over a week, a tiny (albeit adorable) rat kept us up by scattering in our ceiling. We then later found that rat, courtesy of our foster pup, dead on one of our bike wheels. Cute.
Another night I was trapped at the bottom of the stairs because a cute little mouse was in front of the upstairs which leads to our studio. I wanted that mouse dead, but I am a GD sucker for little babies so I sure as shit wasn’t about to kill it. I just waited for about five minutes until it scampered off. A few days later, I found it dead on our property and had to throw it away.
We’ve dealt with ants, fruit flies, house flies, horse flies, mice, rats, cockroaches. You name it. Everyone told me to be afraid of sharks and snakes but I haven’t seen jackshit on that front. My horrors that I dealt with in Seattle however followed me here but are cuter and therefore more conflicting. Cool cool cool cool cool.
[Just to clarify, our home sounds disgusting but it’s not. It’s just the reality of living in temporary housing on 13 acres that is an active workzone (while we build our new home and shape our land) in an extremely warm climate.]
Outside of just the critters, I’ve also had to navigate real life. Fun fact about me: I dislike trying new things. My assumption is that I will not be good at them ever or at least without a lot of work and I fear the embarrassment and disappointment I assume the people around me will inevitably feel when they realize I’m not actually that cool (an exciting little trait I picked up at a young age). I was able to deal with this relatively well by just avoiding new shit for most of my life. But it’s a luxury I cannot afford here. All the big things are the same: suburbs, city, humans. But all the little things are different: drive on the right side of the car but on the left side of the road, learn to bike, learn to ebike, learn to drive a motorcycle, try to maneuver an excavator and scissor lift, learn new slang (including my coffee order), be around men almost exclusively (after having largely only been around my lady tribe in the states). Transition from long distance to live-in partner. Finding a new yoga studio (which is essentially a placement holder for therapy for me) after having trained with the same teachers for over four years. Taking on a rescue dog (with a propensity for getting slightly lost and accidentally running away), in addition to our puppy who has had a handful of medical issues pop up. Honestly I could keep going but I won’t because it’s boring and overly dramatic.
My point is this: I’ve had a lot of hard moments since I moved. They may all seem trivial to some, but the aggregate of them has been difficult for me. Some of my friendships have not transitioned as easily as I thought it would. I consistently have bruises all over my legs and mild acne all over my chin, courtesy of my weak european immune system. My partner and I are trying to manage the very real responsibilities and stressors we are facing during major transitions in both our lives. I barely know anyone else besides my partner which means, as a deeply empathetic person, my emotions are sometimes tied too closely his (and vice versa), which means we can create waves in each others days that we hadn’t intended. I still think I have to prove my worth since I am not contributing financially currently. There are times where I am short and kind of mean to my partner because my patience is thinner than I’d like it to be. It took me over a month to actually build up the courage to even try a yoga studio here. I am constantly learning, constantly uncomfortable, constantly trying to redefine how I evaluate and value myself.
Instagram does not show this. Nor should it, to some extent. This is my journey (and my partners). I deserve the right to navigate it however I need. But what Instagram does get right is all the reasons why I stay, all the reasons I feel calmer in my soul than I have in a while, all the reasons I know to my core I am where I am supposed to be.
By almost all measures, I am healthier than I have been in years. I am learning to embrace my body in all of it’s realities (including allowing myself to become the silver fox I have been hiding for almost a decade). But more than that... I have an incredibly loving partner. We built a strong foundation over the last year and a half of long distance. We aren’t reliant on sex to appease each other or smooth over wrong doings. We have honest and open dialogue that we use to maneuver through life together. Every month, we’ve done our rose and thorns of our life together. We make a safe space to err whatever has been festering and then we both think on what the person has said and make actual action items for how to improve it. I don’t have a boyfriend, I have a partner. We care deeply about each other and our collective (and individual) happiness. We own our shit, even when it is ugly and hard. We see love as an action as much as a feeling. The other day we both were just struggling, for our own reasons, but he stopped me in the kitchen and asked for a hug and we sat there in that moment for a very long time. I felt safe and loved and seen and I was reminded of why every level of discomfort I’ve felt through this transition and leading up to it is worth it. Not to mention, he is sexy AF. Sorry, but just had to note it.
I guess the reason why I am sharing this is to remind people that life will never be perfect. There is not a single person whose love will just magically fix you. There isn’t a life change that will just heal all your wounds and imperfections. Wherever you go, there you are. So direct your life in a direction towards authenticity; towards a life where you can be exactly who you are without fear, where you can grow the best parts of yourself while confronting the worst and accepting that you contain both... and so does everyone else. Choose a life where you can be your whole self, where you don’t have to be tough or happy or funny all the time. You can be soft, and sad, and quiet. I chose a life of self love, granted not as early as I wish I could have, but that life of self love has attracted even greater love to my life. My friends, my family, and now my partner, have allowed me to enjoy the highs you see on Instagram while wading through the lows you don’t.
In my experience, being content in your life is more important than anything else. Happiness, like sadness, is a temporary emotion. Don’t make permanent decisions over temporary moments. Do the hard work to find your truest self and your deepest joy. My life damn sure isn't perfect but I wouldn't trade it for the world.
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