Being Instagram perfect

What we all become to accept

There is no easy or flattering way to explain one’s unsatisfactory of success. Great career, great girl, great apartment, great….. but still a lacking of that true happiness everyone else around seem to portray.

On that note, the clear leader for a black hole of selfdoubt-ism is Instagram. For me it consist of three things.

  1. The parents- It’s having kids and over-sharing all those details to everyone that have to scroll through. 90 % of those post is posted by the mom that also include hashtags of love, uniqueness and explanation of how life was not life before their angel came to life. I generally think this trend is harmful. The perfectness of kid value-adder leaves you with the thought of “the thing that you don’t have”. Like a club that you are not really allowed into before you do 1, 2 & 3.

What I’m trying to say it’s 2010s greatest question — Is everyone so god damn happy? Is no one crying for being lonely even though they are surrounded by people? Feeling that life ain’t what it supposed to be? That they have a half-ass career, less fun or even a crush they never really came over?

Well I’ve noticed that every time you get on a deeper level with anyone their fears & short-comings bubble up. They are just as frighten as you are. As the famous ice-berg mythology, we have a way of keeping our happiness above water. Our happiness is what you see. Our happiness is our Instagram.

It’s like complete opposite of the pyramid model. You don’t find happiness in yourself — you find happiness by making your life a continuous Instagram-moment.

Seriously, fuck you society of putting this in motion.

A Instagram photo that capture 1 second of your weeks 604 800 seconds. You choose the one where you are doing the best thing you do looking as best as you do. How will your life compare to someone else 1/604 800 second?

Life can always be better because you can always be more fit, more successful, on a fancier vacation or drive something nicer than your beat up Skoda Felicia from 1994. There is never a shortage from where you can see who of your peers that are “better” than you. The one that was promoted to manager before you, the one in a infinity pool in Santorini or just the one being the perfect parent.

We are all seeing the perfect second of everyone and it seems no one is discussing the rest. It seems we’re all just slaves under the happiness iceberg. We live our life under water but make sure that we show the top 1%.

So how can anyone say that we are becoming individualist when we hide the truth of from 99,9% of our surrounding? Prompted to be a collective of fakes.

So fuck off Instagram, I can play your game but I don’t want to take apart of it either. My life is filled with great moments but it’s equally filled with failures, insecurities and my perceived hardship.

Remember those freaking thigh gaps?

There is nothing wrong with setting goals and wanting to become the person that you want to be. But set a AGNR-goal “A GOAL NOT RIDICULOUS”. Because the primary function you have today is being a flawed human in comparison to perfection.

Thanks to it you are competing with superwomans and supermans of life. The one having that perfect life. But they are just the same as Usain Bolt running 100 meters fast. They are perfect organisms of 5000 right decisions, failures and circumstances that made them the 000.1 percenter. But Usain Bolt will still loose a marathon.

So if you don’t conquer yourself you will always be the loser against someones Instagram-moment or Usain Bolt moment.

All you have is paths and the certainty that every turn will give you FOMO.

The Fear Of Missing Out

Our parents generations dreamed to get a car. Our generation dreams of a Mercedes.

The joke is on us because the truth is that you will be too fat, you will make less money than you should and you are certainly gonna be a disappointment to someone. Your friend will experience a better vacation than you. The other ones relationship is just flawless and the third ones kid just walked after only 6 months.

Maybe you make more money at Marlboro but your friend is saving the world at the UN.

Maybe you are travelling the world but your friend got a beautiful healthy kid and a loving partner.

God damn

So how many minutes, hours, days, months or years did you spend to find love? All those hours on tinder swiping, chatting and meeting random face 1, 2,3 and 4? We spend years to find the right one and still our divorce rates are over 60%.

Is the grass greener on the other side or is it just a mirage of our own imagination?

When I asked my self why my 30 crisis will be tough I came to the conclusion the probability of me not being perfect is 100%. I will probably work until I hit the wall, my marriage will break and I will see my parents die. I will hate my kids at some point and I will hit rock bottom eventually.

As long as those moments are not shared as much as the happy moments I will always portray a percent of me. That percent that are the same as everyone else. My perfect percent. My 1%.

I’m a fake in fake world just trying to over-fake someone else fake.

Product manager @ Hedvig