Look, I get it. I was the mousy girl who listened to a lot of Rilo Kiley and wore a t-shirt with a hermit crab on it that said “the fun’s just getting started!” I probably made you a mix cd. No one voted for me for anything but if they had, I would’ve won “most likely to probably be in your AP history class.” So, I get it, I get why you’re looking at my social media accounts nearly ten years later and comparing yourself to me. I saw “comparison is the thief of joy” cross stitched on a pillow next to a picture of the hamburgler on etsy and that’s really stayed with me, so here are some reasons you should remember that when looking at the things on my Facebook page and try not to compare yourself to the glory that is my life.
Don’t be jealous of my posts about dating apps.
Look, I know I post funny screenshots of things guys send me on tinder like “lol I dated your best friend” or “if you were a kitchen appliance, what would you be?” I know as you’re reading this the light is catching the reflection of the enormous rock on your ring finger and slightly blinding you a little with each scroll. What a pain! Like, you’re happily married and I’m here getting all this attention on tinder and hinge and bumble and happn and farmers only, but online dating isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Like just the other day Garrett asked me on a date and I was like, “yah does Wednesday work?” and then he never responded. What did Wednesday ever do to you Garrett? How did Wednesday hurt you??? Would we be happily in love if I had suggested Thursday instead??? Well, I have my adult kickball league that night so take a gd hike, Garrett.
Don’t be jealous of my late night partying.
I know it looks cool that I checked into a beer garden that serves craft beer and large pretzels with gourmet mustard late on a Friday night, as you’re snuggled up with your husband and child next to you, but trust me, I wish I was at home watching Netflix. The photo I posted is so filtered because I have bags under my eyes from my dog waking me up at 5:30 am because she needed to go out, and I live in a third story apartment so I can’t just open the back door and let her out. No, I had to pull on some semblance of an outfit and shoes, walk down all the stairs and smile begrudgingly at my equally annoyed neighbors doing the same thing. Also, I’m not eating any of the fancy pretzels at the beer garden because I’m off carbs, except beer, that’s okay right? So remember that when you see me snapping at one am, my feet hurt, my Chardonnay belly is growing by the sip, and I just want to be home watching true crime documentaries on Netflix.
Don’t be jealous of how much fun it looks like I’m having in the photos I post.
It takes me about seven photos to get the perfect picture of the hamburger I ate for dinner last night, and it’s not even a moving object. So the one photo I posted from that event where I’m perfectly smiling and everyone around me is laughing at whatever delightful witticism just sprang from my mouth is one out of like 45 that I took while I was missing out on whatever event was actually happening. Sorry, I missed the cake cutting at your wedding Tori! I had to get that perfect shot of me laughing and cheersing with my champagne and my casually aloof sunglasses. Also, sorry I didn’t post any pics from your graduation Mary, the shirt I was wearing that day had a weirdly cut waist and I looked pregnant in about half the photos! Congrats grad and congrats to me on my baby made of tacos and beer! When I choose what photos to post online, it’s a very curated persona and that persona is not the woman who just ate an extra large breakfast burrito and put on skintight jeans and a crop top.
We are all going through this life on different paths and different paces. I saw another etsy pillow with the phrase, “the grass is always greener” and then this weird like skinny palm tree leaf. So when you’re scrolling through your phone and wishing for the things you don’t have, just remember you’re not a cartoon criminal whose business model is focused solely on stealing hamburgers from a big purple monster named Grimace. Also, be glad you’re not a big purple monster named Grimace because who thought of that, what a bummer.