The moment I wake up, my thumbs pick up an unconscious rhythm of scrolling and swiping, leaving lingering fingerprints on my screen and etching doodles of others’ lives in my mind. For breakfast, I scarf down a bowl of Froot Loops along with Instagram stories and feeds, all sodden with a seemingly perfect aura.  

I have a natural, but sordid, penchant for comparing myself to those online, scrupulously assessing the lives of people I have never met. As I bumble through my day, I cannot help the envy that pricks at my skin as I ask myself, not for the first time, how are other people so inexplicably perfect?

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The minute I click on any social media app, it greets me with TikTokers that look as if they stepped out of a magazine, sunsets that look generated by artificial intelligence and the most sculpted bagel resting on a Pinterest-y table with a matcha so dreamlike that it cannot possibly exist. This prevailing aesthetic leaves me compelled to despair over my inadequacy at leading the so-called ideal life. 

While I love my days walking through campus and the city with buildings drenched in the Los Angeles sun, I cannot help the nagging voice in the back of my head mocking my lack of perfection. Spotting someone landing their summer internship is grounds for me to apply to 400 more and seeing a post of someone with their friends is enough for me to squeeze as many coffee chats and parties into a weekend already so crammed that it is bursting at the seams. 

The visceral expression of online perfection inhibits my obligation to be authentic as I, too, fall into the rabbit hole of cultivating a coordinated and aesthetically pleasing social media presence. I surmise that while I may be contemplating my anxieties, my Instagram should depict a jubilant and captivating experience. 

It is only recently that I’ve come to the realization that social media is indeed a highlight reel. Intellectually, this makes sense because that is its purpose. However, when we are fed with reiterations of people’s supposedly perfect lives, we can forget that social media does not serve as a reflection of reality. We are comparing our lowest lows to others’ highest highs. 

Even BeReal is no longer real. While the app prides itself on authenticity, users can capture a photo whenever they want and have numerous tries to do so. The fake nature of social media that the app tried to erase still persists. At the end of the day, users are catering a post for an audience under the guise of being real.

Influencers online are using a filter, whether that be an actual filter that distorts their faces and bodies or the filter of a flawless life. When I feel defeat flood through me because I do not have “legging legs” (yes, this is apparently a thing now), I try to remember that camera angle, filters and airbrushing are contorting what I am seeing. 

We are expected to meet unrealistic and unachievable standards and we cannot ignore their psychological effects. The constant sparring match with self worth stems from the carefully curated stories that are perpetuated by social media. In the long term, this has the potential to lead to a host of mental health issues, including anxiety and body image issues. 

In our day-to-day lives, it’s hard to prevent us from comparing ourselves to what the internet shows us. Being online, sometimes chronically, provides us with an unquenchable thirst to perceive others in a sea of posts and videos. 

We think we know everything about people’s lives, but it is important to remember that they are masquerading a perfect life, one that is only filled with positives. Social media does not capture the human experience for what it is, instead, it only captures what we want shown to the world.

Amrita Vora is a sophomore writing about the impact of social media on adolescents and college students. Her column, “Chronically Online,” runs every other Monday.