Who Told Us That?
That we can only host friends in our homes if we have “space” and a long farm table.
That other parents have it all together and are more fun and intentional.
That our homes must be all white with rustic wood and gold accents to be lovely.
That Spring Break means a Disney Cruise, every time.
That little girls only look cute in fully-coordinated outfits with boutique labels.
That everyone is moving, remodeling rooms, buying new beautiful furniture, and redoing décor regularly.
That being upbeat is the only acceptable emotional state.
That everyone’s neighborhoods are friendly, social, and filled with kids that enjoy each other.
That no one has doubts or questions about their faith.
That everyone is running marathons and dropping pounds with Keto.
That everyone has beach plans, ski trips, concert tickets, and romantic anniversary getaways.
That all families are seated around a table eating only grain free/dairy free/sugar-free meals.
That to parent well, we must turn weeks at home into “stay-cations” with endless entertainment.
That marriage for everyone is fully dynamic, connected, and fun.
That everyone is moving forward at lightning speed with their projects, creative work, and businesses.
That everyone is trying new, urban restaurants while we eat burritos in a strip mall.
That everyone has a giant, tight circle of fun, empathetic, and adventurous friends.
That everyone’s kids are well-behaved, athletic, generous, loving, brilliant, creative, and award-winning.
That everyone is healthy, perky, productive and living their best lives.
That our every day, ordinary lives are not enough, because we were made for more and more and more.
Did social media tell us this?
At some point, all of those “everyone” statements have wormed their way into my thoughts. So I feel like it’s time to rethink who I’m listening to. I just can’t keep up with that fancy, fun, and fabulous “everyone”, and I’m ragged from trying. Maybe you too?
Time to fire a confetti cannon of grace over our heads and stop to think this through. Maybe clumping together a collective “everybody” as weight and measure for the status of our own lives is not our best idea.
For me, when I start to feel my real-life reasoning getting subtly muddled and heavy with jealousy, I must reconsider my gauge.
Let’s kick this comparison habit, shall we? When social media becomes more than connection, inspiration, and laughs, let’s put it back in its rightful place. Let’s break up with feeds that make us feel small and mute pages that make us green with envy. Let’s lift our eyes up to our homes, agendas, and in-the-flesh people (dressed in hand-me-downs) and figure out how to delight in them, as is.
Bossy old social media might try to convince us of a long list of “shoulds” for our lives, but we can turn down the offer for a better one. Those highlight reels can’t begin to capture the joy and pain of real life. Its simply far messier, more tangled up, and altogether lovely to be contained by a post.
When a false, born out of comparison expectation rears up, stealing the life out of our lives, let’s ask ourselves,
“Who told me that?”
Because the answer? It matters.