This Season of My Life is not Insta-Worthy
Hello friends,
Within the past year or so, since getting pregnant and having our daughter, I've struggled to keep up with my usual social media flow. Back in the day, before her, I was pretty consistent and grew a pretty decent following on all my platforms...nowhere near millions, but enough that it seemed to keep people interested in my art. It wasn't my favorite thing in the world, keeping up with the grind of the socials, but it felt like the only way to get my work seen.
After having our daughter, my priorities shifted so extremely and so quickly that from my online presence you'd think I'd fallen off the face of the earth. I've been in a sea of dirty diapers, drowning in stuffed animals. She, the majority of the time, is my sole focus. She is what my world revolves around like she's the sun. Her light illuminated this pause in me, this release of the need to keep up with the world...because, right now, she is my world. And right now, in this season of motherhood, my life is not insta-worthy.
Maybe it's growing up and realizing that chasing the high of social media fame is not only lack-luster, but also kind of a farse. It's this shiny carrot dangled in front of us to keep us chasing this never-realized prize.... for most of us. The lucky few that have 'made it' keep us on the hook. They seem like regular old folks like us, but in reality, there's probably a lot more going on behind the scenes, connections they have or avenues that we as regular moms aren't traveling. We don't know the help these people are getting outside of their carefully sculpted IG posts talking about their latest favorite skincare line. And can we all just recognize already that most of social media is nothing more than advertising anymore? Someone is always trying to sell you something. Art for art's sake, and pleasure for pleasure's sake died somewhere on the internet around 2015 or so.
There was a time on the internet that it felt fun to participate in everything. Like the things that we shared were seen by people that were interested in what you were creating. And now, it all feels like screaming into the most vast, empty void you could imagine. A black hole where creativity is sucked up and spat out as a sponsorship ad on the other side. Now don't get me wrong, grab that bag if you can! I'm not here to bash folks making a living, but I wish there was still space for genuine connection and creative expression that wasn't turned into some censored, washed out, advertiser friendly swill.
I miss the days of gritty, indie sleaze posts and bad poetry over grainy Razor front camera photos.
My phone is full of photos though still, but they're not ones I want to share. Nowadays, I have to go out of my way to intentionally take 'instagramable' photos like the ones in this post. It's a purposefully sought out form of photography that I have to carve out time for. I have to be careful to not get certain people in shots and I try my best to limit photos of my kid on the internet except for my personal Facebook where I share photos of her for our extended family to see. Most of our life as a family is private and sacred and not for the internet. And I like it that way!
The majority of my days are not glamorous anymore. We're not going to fancy events, I'm not doing big shows, and life simply isn't a fast-paced as it used to be. It's been a shift in the way I see social media and the internet as a whole. My peace of mind is not for sale, and I won't trade it for the possible chance of going viral. I went semi-viral a few years ago with one of my Youtube videos, and other than being able to join the Youtube partner program, not much came from it. The grind doesn't feel worth the effort right now when there's other things drawing my attention away from it. Things like my daughter absolutely losing her marbles over some random new snack she's tried, or watching my dad watch her take some of her first steps.
I'm all for sharing bits of the journey online, and I've really been enjoying writing about motherhood. But the older I get, I'm realizing that 'touching grass' and getting the fuck off the internet every now and then is absolutely the best thing for my mental health. Real life is not happening on Facebook and Instagram. Real life is happening in your buddy's living. Real life is happening in some over-crowded and over-priced bar in some sketchy part of town that just so happens to make the best damn espresso martini you've ever had. True story.
This season I'm right now requires presence. It requires focus and restraint. And lately, there's not of that on the socials. Truthfully, I'm tired of hearing everyone scream about the latest thing to be mad about. I want to hear about the conversation you had with your gram about her way to make stuffed shells or how your coworker just loves this one shade of blue she chose for her bathroom remodel. Mostly though, I think myself and a lot of others are just craving genuine connection and inspiration. Real life is cool again.
If I'm feeling the need to be fancy, I seek out a nice date night. If I need to feel artistic, I sign up for a show. If I feel like moving my body more, we get a gym membership. All of which sound so normal and very 'duh, Holly', but it's like taking hold of the steering wheel on a car ride you've been in since birth that's been heading into oncoming traffic the whole time til now. Does that make sense? Yes, my life is messy and chaotic right now because of tiny humans, but it's a fresh start and a road map on how to get a hold of everything...starting with the dirty diapers and sea of stuffed animals.
And if I want to share something.
I will.
And if I don't want to...
I won't.
all the love,
-h.
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