Lets have a think. Look at some of your favourite Instagram accounts. Is it of a very tanned, utterly flawless, and beautiful model that get thousands of likes posing by a pool in Dubai? Or along the same page?? This is an Insta-Girl (aka Instagram Queen, Goddess of the Gram or #GOALS). It makes me evaluate my life asking why is that not me? Why am I sat watching ‘Four In A Bed’ on repeat instead?
So we have some sort of general idea of what an Insta-Girl is. Someone who looks effortlessly beautiful 101% of the time. Lives this idyllic lifestyle jetting off around the world, has the best bushy eyebrows and brunches everyday all day. It is the dream life which we all dare not even dream about. But being a blogger, and in this industry you cannot do anything but admire them. I don’t feel like I can even compare my little tiny account in comparison. If you put my attempt of a feed next to her sunset bikini pics then you would always chose her photos. The photos where she doesn’t need to worry about belly rolls or double chins. Why am I now her? *looks at a bar of chocolate…*
But I don’t because I know I won’t. I admire these gorgeous girls for their toned bodies and vigorous work out routines. My reality is that as I am writing this post I have just eaten a cheese and barbecue sauce bagel. I am pacing myself before I dive into the banana and chocolate chip muffin that sits in front of me. Not that healthy and vegan salad and green juice.
Every single day I am processing the way I look. If I have a little binge on the weekend then I am aware I look a little podgier afterwards. I know that in nearly all scenarios my double chin will be like ‘Heyyy girl I’m right here’ and my hip dips are the size of small mountains. But I am beginning to accept myself for that (read more here). This is rather than going ‘I hate the way my body look’ ‘Ughhhh I was so much prettier X number of months ago’.
There is something about the Insta-Girl that in any photo taken of her – it is miraculously candid. If someone sprung a photo on me I am sure I would be pulling some face. Most likely half way between a resting bitch face and a disgruntled stare. Imagine being able to look at content and not delete pics because… oh my arm looks fat there…
Another cold truth is that I don’t live that lifestyle. I don’t go to Coachella. If I go abroad its every couple of years. I study and work from home and 80% of the time I am in my trackies that need a wash. I also don’t like the idea of having to fit around this if it is considered ‘the norm’. Yes it is so gorgeous to look at. But for the majority of us who live ordinary lives, working to keep ends meet, this isn’t our reality.
I am happier posting what I want, dressing in a maxi dress if I want to, and posting a bikini pic on the rare occasion (thank god for high waists).
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