Over Christmas my friends came home. And I was ecstatic, I had missed spending time with them and couldn’t wait to hear all about there uni lives. What I hadn’t realised is just how hard it would be, and how I would feel learning that whilst I’ve been stumbling through life back in Manchester they had created what appeared to be these wonderful perfect second lives.
And to be frankly honest, I was jealous.
For the past few months over Instagram, Facebook, twitter and snapchat I had seen them posting smiley photos of them and there new flat mates, drunk nights out, falling asleep in lectures, countless memes and tons of exciting new experiences. I saw them making new friends, getting into relationships and from where I was sat on the otherside of the phone, they seemed to be having an amazing time, perfect time.
And of course, as I sat through meals and meet ups and heard stories of the past few months in my head there perfect lives were confirmed. The drunk night out where so and so did this and that, the exam where they got 100% and the girl next door who was there new best friend. And it was so lovely to watch them smile, and tell me how happy they were. Yet, I couldn’t help feel the pang of hurt in my chest, the same one I felt when I left York. The reminder that maybe that could/should have been me.
And then I realised. The life I was jealous for, most likely didn’t exist. What I had seen and been told about was the good things, they had just left out the bad.
And that’s what social media does. It creates a perception. A sculpted perfect life. The moments a person wants to share. The happiest or funniest moments that they capture. The moments that make you believe that they have got what you want. That they are living, a life, a life without the sadness and emotions your feeling. And sometimes we lose ourselves in that.
We lose ourselves and work ourselves up. We wonder why we can’t be like them. Why we can’t love university. Spend every night drunk. Yet still be acing our exams. But what we forget is that these are there good days.
That they too have bad days, but these are hidden and unknown to us.
So when we sit and compare. And the feeling of jealousy and that pang of pain reappears. We forget that everyone has the good and the bad. And the likelihood is, the moments they are sharing are simply just the good.
So we must not forget, that we too have the good. And that like us, they also have bad days. And that in life “you need those bad days to appreciate the good ones”.