I can’t vouch for everyone, but I definitely speak for the majority when I say that social media is a huge part of my life. Whether I’m scrolling through Twitter on my break at work, Snapchatting my daily streak photo, or even emailing my professor about a late assignment, not a minute goes by that I’m not connected.

Within this day and age, social media is by far the best way to participate in public life.

One of the most prominent social media platforms is Instagram. I’m not here to bash. In fact, I’m a loyal user myself who craves to have more followers than those I’m following. It’s so bad that I go as far as to unfollow someone who doesn’t follow me back. How petty, right?

We are guilty of using Instagram to create a new identity for ourselves. Don’t be fooled by anyone’s pictures of wild parties, hipster lunch dates, tranquil yoga sessions, and romantic outings with their significant other, because the dirty truth is is that their life isn’t any better than yours.

Instagram is used as a veil to mask the parts of our lives that we don’t want people to see. Who wants to see a photo of a girl with makeup stained cheeks and tears falling from her eyes? No one wants to see a picture that is somber and displeasing. It for sure won’t get you the number of likes you wish to achieve.

I remember all throughout middle school when I would post the most atrocious stuff. My photos never got that many likes; the average was about 20 or so. That was until I started censoring what I posted. The first questions I would always ask myself before posting was, “Who wants to see this?” and “How many likes will this pic get me?”

My average likes jumped from 20 to 70 to 100. Every time I post a new photo that breaks the previous record, I get so ecstatic.

If I don’t think that my picture will get at least 100 likes then I refuse to post it. I purposely don’t like other girls’ photos, because I envy how many more likes they get than me. Besides, if they are being granted 200 plus likes, they clearly don’t need mine.

My terrible attitude aside, there is always the flipside and how other girls view social media. It makes me no better if they desire the same thing as I do.

A good friend of mine even goes as far as to make sure the order of the pictures she posts looks aesthetically pleasing from her profile view. With this same friend, we would dress up and go around to capture the perfect moment. Taking turns modeling, we felt beautiful, confident, and always had a blast. I would do it again in a heartbeat.

The issue is why we did it: we did it for the likes and to rub it in everyone else’s faces how good our lives were.

Living over 1,300 miles away from my high school friends, social media is pertinent in keeping touch with them. I love seeing how happy they appear in the photos they post. Although I’m ashamed to admit it, I grow envious of those blissful, spontaneous moments my friends and everyone else manages to capture.

I’d love to be the person to suggest a solution that brings an end to the glorification of social media; however, circumstance would permit that to be nearly impossible. I can, on the other hand, share some advice. Don’t take the photos you see on your feed at face value. Just take each image for exactly what it is: a brief snap of a single moment in a long day.

And remember: always live your best life.