What anyone posting their highlight reel on Instagram needs to know

Many years ago, when I went through a stage in life which saw me not liking my reactions, or myself for that matter, I went to see a therapist. It was one of the best things I have ever done. I believe unravelling my mind and emotions with an unbiased other has led me to my current state, where I consider myself my own best friend.

Wendy Squires: I believe unravelling my mind and emotions with an unbiased other has led me to my current state, where I consider myself my own best friend. Credit: iStock

However, this doesn’t mean I still can’t have reactions to certain things which render me wondering just why I get so riled and irrational, why I just can’t walk away and ignore such irritants. One of these vexations is Instagram. Yes, I know I’ve been bleating about how it is a venue for the vacuous, venal and vain for years now. I also realise that it is a fact of modern life that won’t go away, so I need to either suck it up or just ignore it.

I generally choose the latter. But somehow this social medium still manages to annoy me beyond endurance, which is why I have decided to stop and ask myself just what is going on here. Why can’t I just ignore the entire pose party, proud that I play no part in something I so fundamentally oppose. So, using skills learnt in therapy, I’ve been trying to see why Instagram brings up such virulent emotions by asking myself where they’re really coming from. And, as this introspection so often reveals, its tentacles have a tight grip on my powerless past.

You see, I was a pretty sad little kid. I lived with a mentally unwell, alcoholic father, someone who should have never had custody of a five-year-old girl in the first place. But I don’t want this to be a pity party. It is what it is/was. And, as someone currently working for a charity which involves the care of displaced and vulnerable youth, I’m acutely aware that I am far from alone in my childhood distress. Hell, compared to some others I see, I am one of the lucky ones.

And herein is what I have realised from my deep dig into my psyche – I will always be that little girl. I will always be the one other parents whispered about and banned their children from playing with. I will always be the kid with the knots in her hair and the hanging hem on her dirty uniform looking at others who appear so much better off than me.

To those of you who are about to post a new designer bag, glamorous holiday, pore-free face or fabulous meal, I just ask you to take a moment and think about those less fortunate.

It was through a prism of shame and desire that I watched other kids and their families go about their normality – holidays, parties, presents and unconditional love. And as I grew older and had to deal with chronic acne, which saw me wilt when I should have blossomed, I saw the pretty and pampered as somehow better and more deserving than me. I had nothing because I was nothing.

Back in those days, there were terms such as “demure”, “modest”, “humble”, “decorous” and “reserved”, words which were reflected by behaviour. People didn’t go around trumpeting how fortunate/good-looking/thin/rich they are via veiled hashtag lies like #sograteful and #seizetheday.

If you had a good physique, you didn’t flaunt it in skin-tight clothing. If you had a good complexion, you didn’t boast about it, or claim it to be the result of water and sunscreen while puffed up with fillers and stunned with Botox. And I am forever grateful for this. Because, had I been subjected to the constant stream of boasting and bravado that is social media today, I fear it would have broken me.

Look, I am happy if you are living your best life, don’t get me wrong. And if you are proud of who you are, I applaud you. But here’s the thing: to those of you who are about to post a new designer bag, glamorous holiday, pore-free face or fabulous meal, I just ask you to take a moment and think about those less fortunate.

They are the followers you don’t know, the ones looking at your conceits from their vastly different realities. And, with all due respect, you are making them feel like shit with your perfect, concocted worlds.

So please, can you look up some of those old fashioned words I mentioned earlier, words like “humble”, “modest” and “reserved”. Because they have a depth of meaning and sentiment that surpasses any disingenuous hashtag.

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