Dear faithful followers of my Instagram/Facebook/Snapchat,
I have an awful truth to admit to you. It might break your heart, so please brace yourself. Maybe sit down, take a deep breath, and drink a glass of water after reading the next sentence.
My life is not as witty and filtered as it seems on my social media channels.
Surprisingly, I don't spend every day skipping classes to hike obscure mountain trails, though that's what I portray through the pictures I post. I don't talk in clever sentences that spew knee-slapping puns, though that's how my captions seem to be written. And I'm merely acquaintances with the people whose pictures I leave snarky comments on, though it seems like we may be best friends.
In fact, many of the pictures I post have stories behind them consisting of stress, tears, heartache, and insecurities.
Did you know that all of those pictures of my mountain adventures like hiking, camping, and exploring were all expeditions I attempted to fill my schedule with so I wouldn't focus on the aching homesickness I felt?
Remember, this post?
Yeah, it seems like a fun night on Instagram, but what you don't know, faithful follower, is that I barely slept that night after I posted it because I was wide awake with concerns of being too tall for any boy's liking.
The Hanna you see on social media is the Hanna I want you to see.
So, I'm sorry. From the bottom of my aesthetically pleasing Instagram grid to the top where my cute bio is perfectly typed, I'm sorry. I apologize for not being real and authentic in my posts. I'm sorry for only telling you about the happy and adventurous moments, instead of the messy life in between the carefully VSCO-edited pictures.
I'm also SO sorry if I have wrongfully assumed your life was just as filtered and witty as it seems to be on your Instagram.
I recently met up with one of my close friends from high school for coffee and quick chatter of the past semester. She proceeded to tell me that this school year has been one of the lowest points in her life. I was shocked. I thought everything was going great since she seemed to be having so much fun in all the pictures she posted. Nothing on her Facebook ever suggested that she was unhappy.
I wanted to kick myself. I was so disgusted with the kind of friend I call myself to be - one whose use of social media falsely gives the perception that they know all the details of someone's life.
Maybe instead of basing a friend's well-being off of their Snapchat stories, I should instead call them to hear their voice that may be cloaked in emotion and pain. Maybe I can be there for them by intentionally texting them every so often instead of mindlessly scrolling through my feed, double-tapping, and calling it "keeping in touch."
There is so much more between the posts. I've become ignorant to the realities of life each one of my Facebook friends are facing.
So, again, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for the misuse of social media I have garnered as habit.
Followers, I'm deeply sorry that you don't know the real me, and that I don't know the real you. Because, I'm sure the real you is pretty cool. I know that's the case for me...at least I hope I'm cooler in person than my filtered pictures on a screen.
