I have these friends. About 5 to 7 of them that I hang with every day. They’re always upbeat and fun, have the best ideas and the absolute cutest kids. Plus, they’ve got impeccable style.
I could just listen to them all day, you know? Their lifestyle advice and hacks are always on point. I know so much about them. We feel so close, yet they know little about me.
Why? You ask.
Well, it just so happens that our relationship is a bit one-sided. The reason for this is mostly due to them being so busy and living super far apart from each other… oh, and the fact that they’re Instagram influencers and don’t know I exist.
Typing that out, it all feels pretty pathetic — thinking of these women as “friends”. But the truth is, I listen to their stories as I get ready every single morning. I hear them chatting with me on the way to work. And as I sink into my nightly bath, I check in just to see how their day went.
I feel like I can relate so well to them. They’re moms who love to shop and make yummy food while decorating their homes for the fall. They’re just like me.
Except, they’re not.
Here’s why:
They make money when I spend money
They aren’t spending their hard-earned cash on all the products they’re slinging at me. That shirt that “only costs $38 from American Eagle” didn’t cost them a dime. In fact, they’re getting paid to try it on for me. They’re making money on the very item that I feel guilty for splurging on. While I feel grateful for the discount code they so kindly provided, they’re making bank on my buck.
They have help
I look up to them for keeping it all together. Their hair is done, they do full-face makeup daily and still manage to dress their children in clothes that match and have a perfectly clean and decorated home. How do they do it all? Answer: they don’t. They have some combination of childcare/house cleaner/personal assistant who fills in while they’re doing all the things I don’t have time for.
They don’t have a job
Or, I should say a traditional job. I say this kindly, knowing that they are spending hours every day in contact with companies, confirming sales, trying on outfit after outfit or doing reviews on that new vacuum all while keeping up on their “content” for viewers like me. They’re hustling. I get it. But they have flexibility in their hustle. They also make a crap ton of money and have loads of perks like free vacations and “comped” spa days that are not a reality for your regular girl.
They don’t show their ugly parts
Everything I see on their posts and stories is through a filter. From the actual filter that makes them have perfect skin and high cheekbones to the simple omitting of life’s less-than-stellar moments, I only see what they want me to see. I know this. Heck! I mean, I don’t show the piles of intermingling clean and dirty laundry on the floor of my bedroom or talk about the huge fight I had with my hubby over something real and hurtful, why should they? The thing is, because they show so much of their lives, I begin to forget that they, too, have piles on the floor, rolls on their tummies and baggage in their marriage.
No, Instagram influencers, they’re NOT just like us
It’s a fact.
And I’m writing this to remind myself of that fact — to give myself some grace and embrace my chaotic, penny-pinching, gray roots showing, skin imperfections reality. It’s a good life and I love it.
Meanwhile, I still love my influencers. Those girls never steer me wrong. Thanks to them, I know how to contour my cheeks and own five different brands of dry shampoo.
What more could a girl ask for?
