What is Blogging to Me?

Sometimes, it’s easier to say what things aren’t. If and when I have time to look at other blogs, I notice a lot of Millennial white women, a category to which I belong, doing the same thing over and over. In particular, I see a lot of Instagrammable photos, mainly of these women (that are often very thin) in cute, moderately expensive outfits. It’s all about being beautiful and having a beautiful life. It looks a little something like a Milly ad had a baby with a Kate Spade ad, on steroids, plus a mega hot financier husband, and impeccably dressed children or toy dogs thrown in.

Holy shit, does that bore me! Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion, but the whole “basic Millennial woman” trope blasting the social media airwaves is really boring. And it’s all over the blogosphere. For me? I want to see the cracks in the armor. I want to see someone be a bit of a mess. Offbeat. Into weird, or particular things. I want more realness. I want the insecurities. I want to learn something. I want to see other women learning something. Something beyond how to stage a “candid” photo basking in their plush living rooms and faux fur throws with a glass of pinot and a beaming smile.

Why? To feel less alone! All humans want to feel more connected and less alone. Seeing women in perfect hair and makeup in the perfect anti-double chin angle with a filter doesn’t accomplish that at all. Who has the time and energy to be like that anyway? I can only imagine that upholding that level of put-togetherness is extremely stressful. And it’s vapid. Congrats! You can throw together a cute outfit. I believe women are capable of more substance and are absolutely essential in terms healing this damaged and disconnected world.

I’m not trying to put anyone in specific on blast, hence why I won’t include names, pictures or links to these types of content producers. Again, these are my opinions, but I would venture to say that this type of content is harmful to peoples’ self esteem and I wonder that prioritizing the image of one’s life leaves little time to nurture the soul, interpersonal relations, and opportunities for learning. I’m a huge advocate for unfollowing any social media or blog that creates within you a feeling of unworthiness or inferiority. Still, I find myself occasionally stumbling upon these types of blogs and I start to feel dread.

And I feel sad. It’s a complicated sadness. Maybe I’m jealous? Maybe a little part of me does wish I could frolic around the city in designer clothes drinking Veuve. That I could afford a personal trainer and a nutritionist to slap gummy bears out of my hand. Maybe I want the togetherness and the elevated lifestyle. The financier husband. The kids, the little dog.

But then I think, what’s her dark moment like? Probably like any of ours, but she can’t show it. She can’t ever show it because she’s created a false reality for herself where that kind of vulnerability cannot exist. And then I feel relieved that I exist in a reality where I can openly share with people that I struggled with eating disorders, that I love funky sock designs, that I was estranged from my father, that I have an obsessions with pugs and true crime. That I get pimples. That dating for me is an utter shit show.

I feel my dark times like that other girl, but I feel so free. And most of the time, it’s all pretty funny in the end.


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