Remember the good old days on Instagram when 100 likes was an accomplishment? When an average of 50-70 likes per picture was something to be proud of? I do, and I miss them. If you’re a girl and you don’t average 150+ likes on every picture you post these days, you might as well be pre-sex tape Kim Kardashian. It’s just sad- and I should know; I’m one of them.
I’m lucky if I break 70, let alone 100 on Instagram, and as embarrassed as I am to admit it, it bothers me. I’m no Gigi Hadid, but so help me God I’m no Lena Dunham either, and if the thotzillas at my school can average 150-300 likes per pic, why can’t I just break 100? As pathetic as that is, and as much as you’re probably judging me, you know that you’re guilty of this too. Some of us are more guilty than others, but almost all of us are at least somewhat guilty. And if you’re not, you’re a freak of nature, but congratulations nonetheless.
It’s sad that we live in a day and age where almost no one is safe from the need for validation that social media ignites in us. You can be as confident as the day is long, but if less people like your selfie than you anticipated, all of a sudden, you’re second guessing yourself.
We can all tell ourselves that likes don’t matter- and we’d be right- but how many of us would believe ourselves? How many of us would stop caring about the number of double taps we get?
There are a lot of girls at my school that are great at Instagram, and I envy them. They really do have a gift for capturing their lives in a coherent, visually appealing way that I genuinely wish I had. But as much as I love social media and communications, Instagram isn’t my life. I don’t wake up in the morning thinking about working angles and lighting, or how many likes I’ve amassed in my sleep. The D-class insta celebs at my school do. And that’s no way to live. I’d rather live my humble life of 50 likes than be so consumed by the perceptions of others that I can barely function.
A friend of mine actually hung out with a squad of the Insta-obsessed recently to pregame, and was appalled by what she saw. The entirety of their night was spent on their phones, retaking, retouching, and regramming. And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather wake up in the morning with barely memorable memories and a bunch of blurry, unpostable pictures than 200 likes.
Let’s not kid ourselves though; we all want to be famous on Instagram, and with good reason. Who wouldn’t want to be paid thousands of dollars to post a picture? I want to be rich, I want to be famous, and I want to be called pretty as much as any other normal girl my age. But there’s more to life than the pursuit of heart eyes, and there always will be.