The Illusion of Success in the Age of Likes

Look around. We’re living inside a scripted illusion, where the applause comes in likes and the silence is deafening. Every scroll, every post, every filtered smile is a performance. We are not just living anymore—we are performing. For strangers. For numbers. For hearts and claps and views.

In this age, it’s easy to feel left behind. You wake up, grab your phone, and someone’s in Bali. Someone’s launching a new business. Someone’s buying a new car with a ribbon on it. Someone's getting engaged in a candlelit rooftop. And you? You’re brushing your teeth with one eye closed, wondering if you’re falling behind.

We’re all living in this unspoken race. No one talks about it, but we all feel it. A pressure that comes not from within, but from watching too much of what other people want us to see. Social media has turned real life into a highlights reel. You don’t see the fight before the proposal. The credit card debt behind the designer bag. The exhaustion behind the perfect skin.

You only see the best 15 seconds of their day. The curated glow. The well-lit success.

But real success? It doesn’t have a ring light. It’s messy. Quiet. Invisible most of the time. It’s the student who failed twice but still gets up and tries again. The single parent who hides their sadness just to make dinner feel normal. The young breadwinner who says “I'm fine” while holding back the weight of a family on their shoulders.

These people? They’re heroes. But they don’t go viral. No one claps. No one comments “goals.”

Why? Because we’ve been taught that success must look like something. It must be aesthetic. It must be loud. It must be expensive.

We forget that not everything important is seen. That growth isn’t always photogenic. That healing doesn’t come with hashtags.

We scroll and scroll, unaware that we are slowly building a hunger for a life that doesn’t exist. We begin to shrink, questioning ourselves, doubting our own journey. We start measuring our worth by engagement, our relevance by visibility. If no one likes your post, did it even happen? If no one saw your moment, was it even worth something?

It’s dangerous, this game. Because we’re all chasing something we don’t fully understand. An algorithm’s approval. A stranger’s envy. A fleeting sense of belonging.

And slowly, we stop showing our truth. We begin to filter our pain. Crop our chaos. Caption our sadness with something funny so no one thinks we’re weak. We post what sells, not what’s real.

But the truth is this: the truest parts of life don’t trend.

Crying in your bathroom because you feel lost. Working late at night just to pay rent. Turning down a toxic offer even if it means being broke for a while. Choosing peace over performance. These are the brave choices. These are the quiet victories.

The world won’t always reward you for doing what’s right. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth doing.

We don’t need more influencers. We need more truth-tellers. More people who are not afraid to say, “I’m still figuring it out.” Because aren’t we all?

So the next time you feel behind, remember: not all success is loud. Not all progress is public. Sometimes, the biggest win of the day is getting up and trying again.

And maybe that’s enough.