One of the things that brings me great joy in this life is beauty. I adore beautiful things and places. I love home design, photography, and art. Tidy and impeccably decorated spaces make my heart sing. I just learned the word for this type of person– an aesthete: a person having or affecting sensitivity to beauty. As an Enneagram 4, my mood often reflects my physical surroundings. When my home is orderly and decorated in a manner that reflects my style, I am calmer and more even-keeled. Conversely, when my home is cluttered and messy, my anxiety spikes and my patience wanes. I love creating cozy spaces, rearranging decor, eliminating clutter, organizing and reorganizing. It is tantamount to my personality.
Recently, I had an unexpected afternoon to myself. Greer was with my dear mother-in-law and my previous plans had fallen through. After trying and failing all month to find the time to prep Greer’s closet for the upcoming season change, into my lap fell this gift of unexpected time. With my podcasts queued up and bright afternoon light flooding the house, it was the ideal opportunity to organize to my heart’s content. I spent a couple of peaceful, productive hours tidying, sorting, and curating her bedroom down the tiniest details of her closet play space. Delighted by how it had turned out, I snapped the following photo and uploaded it to my Instagram story.
Within minutes, the messages began rolling in.
“You are so organized!”
“Why is your home always so clean?”
“I wish my child’s closet looked like that!”
“How do you find time to do this?”
Oh, how I wished I could have just said “Thank you!” and moved on with my day knowing that I AM so organized and my home IS so clean and my child’s closet DOES consistently look like that! Instead, I immediately felt like a fraud—as though I was misleading people to believe I live some perfectly organized, enviable life. And while it was true in that moment that her room was clean and her closet in order, it is not our day to day truth. Much to my own chagrin, my house isn’t always tidy. I just don’t post photos of the times when it’s not. Messy days with sticky toddler hand prints on my white walls and windows do not bring me great joy.
Here’s the thing about aesthetically intoxicating Instagram– and we’ve all heard this before: IT IS A HIGHLIGHT REEL. It is a medium to utilize with caution and to interpret with discernment. I’ll be the first to admit I love a curated Instagram feed. If I’m not careful, I’ll scroll into the dreamy oblivion of “perfect” homes, wardrobes, meals, and lives. I also tend to be a bit particular about the photos that I post. I like them to look a certain way and I love finding beauty in the everyday moments that surround me. Sometimes it’s my daughter against a striking wall. Other times it’s the way the light dances on our wood floors in the late afternoon or a stack of neatly folded blankets or an idyllic sunrise. But as much as I love capturing the beauty of daily life, I don’t want to create a false image of perfection. That would be not only inauthentic, but wholly off-putting. During a recent conversation with my father, we discussed the nature of authenticity and how through inauthenticity, we lose our credibility. No matter how lovely, put-together, or curated, when we project an image of inauthenticity, intentionally or not, people will catch on. I honestly believe there can be a balance between the beautiful images and the grit of everyday life. I may not always succeed, but I do my best to balance my fussy photo choices by sharing personal struggles and stories of the less-than-Instagrammable moments of my life. After posting the photo of Greer’s closet, I felt the strong urge to follow up with an Instagram story in which I showcased some of the more “real” moments of my life. These included our overgrown lawn, my herb planter graveyard, and my nightmarish basement situation.
My Instagram grid isn’t my real life. Instead, it is a literal snapshot of my life, generally comprised of moments that struck me as beautiful in some way and worth remembering. I don’t particularly want to memorialize the fight I had with my husband or my child’s tenth meltdown of the day or the dog fur collecting in the corners of our home. Those are real things that happen in my real life. I typically chose not to post about them. Instead, I post the room I just cleaned, or the funny thing Greer said, or a fun family outing, or a particularly delicious pizza. I’ll always post my pizza.
Instagram is an incredible source of inspiration, an outlet for creativity, and an opportunity for community. But it must be consumed responsibly otherwise it can very easily lead to comparison and a skewed sense of reality. The onus falls on all of us to be wise participants in the social media world. I urge you, readers, to notice when you see something on Instagram and think “Wow, I wish I could afford that vacation” or “Her house is always so clean” or “She always manages to get a delicious and beautiful meal on the table.”
Recognize it for the momentary truth that it is, but also remember that it isn’t the whole picture. It is a beautiful highlight reel to be viewed with caution.
Well said Holly!! Really enjoyed this!! Comparison is the thief of joy!! It’s all about perspective and yes, instagram is the highlight reel of life – most of us don’t post the nitty gritty. I don’t!
Thanks, K-Bake!!