Sometimes I catch myself longing for the life I used to have. I endlessly return to the social media pages of the people I used to call friends and I am met with this longing for a person who isn’t there anymore. Then I revert back to my own social pages and realise I haven’t posed in a while. How boring my life must be compared to theirs. How differnt we have become.

Then I think about it, and I vist their pages on social media again with a new perspective. I realise that I no longer know these people. This side to them which they post, does not represent them, it is a watered down version of themselves they wish to share online. I compare myself to them and realise that we are all the same. I have long given up on posting on social media. My friends and family know that they can always text me at any time to get in touch. I’d much rather sit and catch up over a cup of tea then have someone stalk though my social medias to get the highlights and photogenic aspects of my life. But those images and 180 characters do not represent me, they do not tell my story. I don’t know what they show, only the things I truly wish to be shown. My social media posts show a sociable person, I always post photos with different friends, and she is a girl who goes out often to differnt places and tries new things. In reality, I am a university student who is in the process of rewarchin friends, in her pyjamas- with icecream- stressing over pending deadlines. Not that you would know that otherwise. I feel pressured to post something to impress or challenge that of which my old friends are posting. I see they have posted something and I feel like I should rival it so that when they check in on me they can see I am doing just fine with out them. How toxic is that mentality, though I am sure I am not alone in believing it.

But that doesn’t stop me reverting back to these very platforms to ‘check in’ on my old life, and yet what I have found is my old life is saved in these images. It is preserved beind whitty captions and endless filters that do not even make the photo seem real. I see the old version of myself smiling, the girl I wouldn’t even recognise now, alongside people I barely even knew. On my own pages, I see my friends now and smile knowing that I have some of the best people arround me possible. But, I do not have the life of the girl who runs those pages. It is me smiling in the pictures but really I am barely even scratching the surface.

So I close down my social media and live happliy for the next few months, until I next feel and impending urge to check in again. To make people jealous of the surface of my life. When I see my old friends I can’t help but feel like everyone is moving on without me. Though, nobody is. We are all just the same. Humans showing off to impress people we no longer care about.

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