I was making the best of my summer holidays on the balcony with a book when the neighbour’s kids showed up, smartphones in hand, discussing the latest Gigi Hadid’s outing.
“Look how gorgeous she is!” one would say, followed by the “omg! she’s so thin! I wish I looked like her” from one of the chubbier girls, eyes glistening, already seeing herself wearing nothing more than crop tops without the fear of embarrassment.
Do you remember what it feels like to meet with friends in the neighbourhood, for a soccer game or a hide and seek that lasted all day? Or the simple being together without cellphone beeping, no notifications stealing our time together, our focus on each other’s faces.
I feel lucky. As a Millennial growing up alongside the Internet and technology, it’s easier for me to not rely on my phone for every single thing. I know how to sit at a restaurant with friends without checking my notifications every few minutes; I know how to have fun at the beach with a ball or just with the company of my friends.
I know how to not always immortalize a moment for the Internet to see and feel like someone, on the other side, is missing out on something.
I know how to carpe the fuck out of a diem.
The question is: can you?
Derek Thompson writes: “The trauma of the Millennial generation has been the disturbance of social media which has amplified the pressure to craft an image of success — for oneself, for one’s friends and colleagues, and even for one’s parents.”
Can you tell me you don’t constantly look at your phone and immediately compare your life to the perfectly shaped one of those who “made it”?
When was the last time you lied to your friends, your followers, with a cute picture of the beach you took two years ago when things were not that crazy and you weren’t seeing a therapist, yet?
Why do you do this? Is it the wish to be where you were two years ago or is it because you want to portray a vision of your life, a fake life, that could potentially draw attention and an unhealthy dose of jealousy?