Like me, you might fall victim to a not-so-occasional doom-scroll when you really should be studying. 

Far too often, I find myself in the depths of Instagram reels instead of doing something productive. My scrolling sessions typically end in lowered self esteem after needlessly comparing myself to content I see online.

Take what we label the “perfect” morning routine, for example: you must be up before the sunrise, meditate or journal, complete a 10-step skincare routine, and eat a perfectly balanced breakfast–all before nine a.m. 

As a student with AP classes and a job, my mornings look nothing like this. 

Most days, I sleep in until the very last possible moment, and then I scavenge the fridge for something to hold me over until lunch. My elaborate skincare routine consists of exactly two products. I get some time to stretch if I’m lucky. But meditation? Completely out of the question!

We may recognize the shallow and superficial nature of social media, yet many of us still fall for its tricks. You may recall thinking at some point, I’m not productive enough or I won’t be successful if I don’t wake up earlier. And after a sufficiently mind-numbing, ego-crushing internet binge, an uncomfortable question lingers: will I fit in better if my life looks like theirs? 

I notice many teenagers also share a desire to live like the picture-perfect snippets of the lives we see online. Society pushing ideas of the “perfect” lifestyle isn’t anything new; we’ve grown up with magazines and billboards and television commanding, “Do this! Eat this! Lose this!”, convincing us our lives are incomplete without whatever they’re selling.

Unattainable standards at the swipe of a finger 

But social media magnifies the effects of, say, a TV advertisement by exposing us to unattainable standards at the swipe of a finger. 

Consider the “clean girl” aesthetic. Now, despite its name, the trend isn’t actually about basic hygiene practices. Clean girls should look put together without showing any effort of doing so–ah yes, the age-old, misogynistic idea that women should be ‘presentable’. Their daily regimen includes wearing makeup, (but not too much!) matching workout sets (no sweating allowed!) and layers upon layers of skin care (God forbid you get wrinkles!). They post sixty-second clips of their lives with their beds made, their hair slicked back, their lattes always perfect. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Also popular on TikTok is the concept of adding the suffix “-core” to a given word in order to create a romanticized lifestyle surrounding it. 

Core terms dictate everything, from your fashion and what your house looks like to your personality and the way you act. “Cottagecore,” for instance, emphasizes an idealistic lifestyle rooted in nature, separated from the chaos of fast-paced, urban life. The concept of cottagecore fosters an internet community wherein people can bond over their passion for gardening, floral attire, and underconsumption.

Objectively, is there anything problematic about multi-step skincare regimens or embracing your inner woodland creature? Absolutely not. On their own, popular items are fun; I’m a pretty big fan of gorgeous latte art and my floral dress collection. These popular things, however, often become components of internet subcultures on which we base our identities. The “it” lifestyle dominates your TikTok page for a good three months–until a different one gets more views.

Idolizing others as role models for the perfect life 

When we see the nit-picked, highly edited videos of peoples’ lives, it’s too easy to idolize them as role models for the perfect life. Yet, influencers are merely the faces of certain trends, and it’s their job to convince us the life they present online is the life we should emulate. 

Many will argue we’ve taken such a liking to lifestyles on the internet–such as cottagecore–because they cultivate communities based on hobbies, food, and fashion. I begin to wonder, however, if labels and aesthetics actually provide a sense of connection and belonging, or if they just add yet another set of unattainable standards we must adhere to.

Adjusting our lives to fit certain genres or aesthetics rarely works. 

Have you ever bought the same clothes as the fashion school girls or copied the ideal gym bro workout? Me too. But I didn’t always buy what I thought looked good on myself or exercise for the betterment of my health; I was conforming to the trends I thought would help me fit in with what I saw online, and you might be too.

Despite my tendency to scroll when I should be studying, I think my life is fulfilling even though it doesn’t always resemble that of people online. 

Their perfect, visually appealing breakfast–after their photos have been taken, edited, and posted–is probably cold. Prioritizing my AP classes as opposed to deep cleaning my room is an effort toward my future, and time I don’t spend on an elaborate skincare routine is time I spend making breakfast with my mother. 

Besides, most of us likely need that extra hour of sleep–otherwise we’ll reach levels of cranky that no amount of meditation will solve.

Editor’s note: This is a monthly column written by a student at Patrick Henry High School. This column is written by Ella Selnick.

Top photo credit: Pixabay.com