Unraveling Layers of Being

Lately, I’ve been feeling overwhelmed every time I open Instagram. It’s not even about any one post — it’s the whole atmosphere. Everyone seems to be posting the same things, using the same trending audio, filming the same morning routines, gym montages, and curated vulnerabilities. There’s a mold now for how we’re all supposed to behave online: wake up early, journal, go to the gym, make a matcha, work hard, look effortlessly perfect.

And somehow, even though people are “sharing their lives,” it doesn’t feel authentic. It feels like performance. Our identity has become a performance.

What’s even more strange is that we’re all trying to prove how authentic and unique we are. But we’re proving it to other people. It’s a funny paradox: the more we try to prove our individuality, the more we lose it.

I’ve noticed that I have a hard time being authentic on social media, too. It’s like there’s no room to just be. There’s pressure to entertain, to teach something, to look good, or to say things in a way that fits the aesthetic. I log in and I feel like I can’t breathe.

That’s why I started this blog. I wanted a quieter space where I could just write without the noise, the algorithm, or the pressure to go viral.

I wonder if we’re reaching a tipping point. If others are starting to feel a craving for something deeper, slower, more intentional. Maybe we’ll start shifting back to formats like blogs or YouTube, where there’s space for real stories. Or maybe people will step away from platforms altogether, choosing real-life community, or more private forms of connection.

I don’t know exactly what’s next, but I feel a shift coming.

And for now, I’m choosing to create from a place that feels real to me. Even if it is quiet.