It was a boring Sunday afternoon, I had no hangouts planned and all my friends were offline, so I opened up Instagram and started scrolling through my Instagram newsfeed.
I was greeted immediately with hundreds upon hundreds of slender-framed women. They all seemed to be having the time of their lives as they posed in outfits cost as much as my apartment’s annual rent. They were all at expensive restaurants, nightclubs, and beach resorts.
Usually, I would hit “like” on a couple of them just for the sake of it, but today was different.
My boredom had me craving for a lifestyle similar to theirs.
[bctt tweet=” I wanted to be just like these women. ” username=”wearethetempest”]
I tried to push it away by binge-watching another season of Friends, but it just wasn’t working out for me. For a minute or two (read: several hours), I went into a phase of deep depression where my life felt absolutely pointless.
I felt an overwhelming need to head to Turk’s and Caicos just like the Kardashians. I wanted to be at a Givenchy show just like Bella Hadid. I wanted to go to Nobu (despite loathing seafood) because Jourdan Dunn just ate there approximately four minutes ago.
I wanted to be just like these women.
But I knew I could never be.
I started researching the cost of these grand lifestyles. From the net worths of the celebrities themselves to the cost of their housing, cars, grocery lists, and stylists.
My own life felt like a train wreck, in comparison.
In a state of utter despair, I punched in Cara Delevingne’s Instagram handle and began looking at pictures of her show-stopping hundreds of ramps.
I now had another reason to hate my life…I envy her heavily toned body.
My arms, thighs, hips, and shoulders suddenly felt too heavy and looked a tad bit too large.
Exhaustion was all I could bring myself to feel. Nothing was in place.
God, why couldn’t I just have that figure?
[bctt tweet=”My own life felt like a train wreck, in comparison.” username=”wearethetempest”]
After a few more hours of wallowing, however, something in me (thankfully) clicked.
The voice inside my head was now saying something along the lines of “Why do you want to complicate your life?” “These people spend hours on hair, makeup, and going to the gym every day.”
When I really started to sit down and think about it, I realized that I was free.
Free of all the stress they probably have to face at the hands of their jobs every single day. I didn’t have to give a shit about my appearance before stepping out of my house. I could eat all the mac n’ cheese in the world and still be employed. I could wear the most badly put together outfit and not get scrutinized. Hell, I could walk on the streets without being chased by some douche with a camera all up in my face.
Hah! I’m a living legend.
This one thing my tortuous episode taught me was that I didn’t need my unnecessary negativity clouding my life.
I mean, it’s okay to admire people, but letting that admiration turn into resentment and destroy every bit of my self-esteem was definitely not something I was okay. So, the next time around, I went to Cara’s (mind you, absolutely breathtaking) profile picture and x’ed right out of it.
A sense of relief had now washed over me.
[bctt tweet=”When I really started sit down and think about it, I realized that I was free.” username=”wearethetempest”]
I had no one to compare myself to, and it was the most liberated I’ve felt in forever.
There are countless women and men living better lives than ours, but what we often forget is that our mediocre lives may be part of someone else’s greatest fantasies. Just like the lives of these celebrities are a part of ours.
Life seems like one huge contest where everyone wants to be better than someone. We’re all so busy trying to be better than the people on our phone and television screens that we’ve forgotten how to be ourselves. We’re all running to become other people while forgetting that it is our strength and resilience through the “mediocre” battles we’ve fought, that define us.
And no pricey ass dress or manicure can beat that.
All of us come from different walks of life.
So can we please stop labeling them and start living, already?