ere’s the reality: no one’s life looks like a perfectly curated Instagram grid. But try telling that to your brain at 7am when you’re scrolling through stories of people whose “just woke up” selfies look like a Vogue shoot, complete with golden hour lighting. Meanwhile, you’re trying to figure out if you can re-wear yesterday’s wrinkled T-shirt to drop the kids off at school without anyone noticing.

Social media has done a stellar job of turning everyday life into a competitive sport. You don’t just wake up; you’re supposed to wake up and glow. Your gym routine can’t just be about sweating it out; it’s got to feature coordinated workout gear, an aesthetic water bottle and a time-lapse of you doing perfect burpees.

Lunch? Forget about eating something that simply tastes good — your sandwich better look like it belongs in an art gallery, or it’s not worthy of the ‘Gram.

Don’t even get me started on coffee. You can’t just swing by the nearest café in your pajamas for a quick caffeine fix. No, you must sip your oat-milk flat white at the trendiest spot in town, where the latte art deserves its own fan club. And while you’re at it, make sure your nails and hair are done too — because apparently, coffee tastes better when you look like you’re shooting a lifestyle ad.

And then there’s your beauty regime. Skincare shelves have morphed into shrines of serums, creams and oils that promise to erase every pore and fine line. But when did it become mandatory to spend an hour layering products before bed? I see these influencers sharing their 10-step nighttime routines and wonder if they ever sleep, or whether glowing skin is their full-time job.

Social media has done a stellar job of turning everyday life into a competitive sport. You don’t just wake up; you’re supposed to wake up and glow.

The kicker? Relationships. Suddenly, we’re all expected to have partners who look like they walked off a rom-com set and who surprise us daily with flowers or grand gestures. If they don’t, are we even in love? The comparison trap deepens, and before you know it, you’re judging your entire life because your spouse hasn’t cooked a three-course dinner for Instagram.

It’s exhausting, isn’t it? Social media’s highlights have warped our perception of reality. What we see isn’t life — it’s a highlight reel. No one’s showing their bad hair days, burnt dinners or arguments about whose turn it is to pick the kids from school. Yet, here we are, comparing our messy, real lives to their perfectly filtered moments.

Lately, I’ve started un-following accounts that make me feel like my life is some sort of unpolished disaster. I want to see real people doing real things — like showing up late to the school drop-off line in pajamas or eating fries out of a greasy paper bag without worrying about the ‘aesthetic.’

Life isn’t perfect, and it shouldn’t have to look like it is. I don’t want to wake up every day and feel like I’m failing at living beautifully. So, here’s to celebrating the mess — the unfiltered, unpolished, totally human moments that make life real.

Sara Danial is the head of content at a communications agency