Dear Kylie Jenner, I simply do not care.
I. The Infatuation/ The Following
I have never been the best at understanding and participating in social media. I can remember exactly what it was like when Instagram first started getting popular. I was in middle school, and everyone was just obsessed. Posting pictures daily, throwback Thursdays, women crush Wednesdays, man crush Mondays, the list of obnoxious hashtags goes on and on. Anyone who was popular had an Instagram and AT LEAST 50-100 followers. It was nauseating. Seeing my fellow middle schoolers running around all day posing for pictures with the incessant begging, "Don't forget to tag me!" The constant gossip of who posted this, and oh my god did you see what he commented? And don't even get me started on all the couples that had each other's names in their bios. Most of the girls in my grade would list off their top best friends at the moment in their bios as well. I truly hated it all. Because I didn't quite fit in. I never felt as though I did. I wasn't pretty enough to take pictures of myself to post, I didn't have enough friends to take pictures with and tag them to start a bigger following, no boys liked me so I could put their name in my bio, and I definitely didn't have enough followers to matter. It hurt. I remember it genuinely hurt to know I wasn't succeeding at social media like everyone else was. I was embarrassed and ashamed. It was like I was being magnified as the outcast. I tried to beat everyone else to the punch. I deleted my Instagram on several different occasions, accepting defeat, and when people in my grade would look at me in confusion asking why, I would say something nonchalant like, "Oh, I just don't really like it, it's pretty dumb if you think about it." Sometimes, for a few seconds, after I laid that claim, they would look at me and say, "Yeah you're right it is pretty pointless." It was a sweet few seconds of validation each time, but then they would go back to scrolling, liking, and commenting on those pointless posts. As I got older, and as I felt prettier and more liked, I gave into Instagram again, so as to try and fit in again. I had more friends that would post about me, I had better pictures of myself that people liked, and it felt like I was somewhat successful at fitting in with my friends on the platform. At one point, I even made my account public instead of private, so that I could maybe one day beat my goal of 1,000 followers. I was following so many strangers that I had never met in real life, but I had heard of them, or I thought they were cool. I started following so many celebrities because that's what everyone does. Everyone follows their favorite celebrities, well because they are famous, duh. And obviously, I want to know how gorgeous they look today, and what clothes they're wearing, and what I should make myself look like, so I can be like them, obviously. Suddenly, I no longer recognized the people on my feed. I slowly stopped posting at all, but I was checking my feed more frequently than ever. When I did post pictures, It was an event. First, I had to get the perfect face of makeup, the perfect hair, the perfect outfit, the perfect pose, and the perfect picture. That alone took up the entire day. Secondly, I had to find the right layout. Should I do just one picture? Should I do multiple? Should I orient them sideways so it's more trendy? Should I use a filter? What the hell is my caption going to be? Finally, I would stare at my phone, the photos themselves, for hours. Slowly gathering the courage to post the pictures, and then chickening out again. If I did end up posting something, I would immediately throw my phone across the room and occupy myself with something for at least ten minutes, so as to not obsess over how many likes, or lack thereof, I was getting. There was always a 50/50 chance of me looking at the pictures again, feeling incredibly ugly, and deleting the post entirely. It was an exhausting process, one that I couldn't keep up with. Hence my stopping of posting.
