Have you ever scrolled on your phone, looked at a stranger’s profile on Instagram, and thought, “Damn, that looks like a cool life”? Perhaps after that thought you wondered about your own life and what you could do to obtain such a lifestyle. Maybe you went as far as checking their LinkedIn and seeing what they studied and the job they’re in that supports their seemingly incredible lifestyle, and then, after having an existential crisis whilst making a cup of tea, you’re suddenly searching for degrees on Google.
Lord knows I have, and more than a few times at that. I’m not embarrassed to admit it… Okay, maybe a little, but don’t act like you haven’t done some social media excavating of your own at least once.
Anyways, I wanted to touch on the concept of living vicariously through strangers on social media.
I believe many of us have become addicted to experiencing life through the eyes of others and it’s creating a mass identity crisis.
Living vicariously is not a new concept. Magazines, gossip, books, and movies all provide opportunities for living vicariously. The difference with these examples when compared to social media is that there’s generally a last page or a last scene. We also know, consciously or subconsciously, that it’s mostly fantasy. Even if it were about real life celebrities, we would throw the magazine away and continue living our lives. Also, most of us have a tendency to separate celebrities and normal, everyday people. But with social media, every man and his dog (literally) have become somewhat of a celebrity – sharing their picture perfect lives for all to see and compare.
I’m not going to talk about how social media isn’t reality, because that topic has been exhausted. Frankly, I’m tired of hearing about it. We know most people only share the highlights. I don’t think that’s the main problem anymore. You can know that alcohol is bad for you, but still get wasted every Friday at 4pm with your colleagues because “happy hour”. You can know that eating a lot of processed food is unhealthy, but keep buying your lunch at a fast food van every day. You get the point – just because you know something is bad for you, doesn’t mean you stop doing it. In fact, I think that’s when you know it’s an addiction, and I think many of us are addicted to living vicariously through social media.
The first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?
Recently, I had a note go viral (for one of a better word):
“When you scroll on social media, you fill your brain with other people's thoughts and feelings. Now imagine doing this for hours upon hours, every single day. You now exist in the reality of hundreds of other people. This is why you feel like a shell of yourself. You have replaced your reality with another's. It's no wonder there's an identity crisis.”
I believe that this gained so much traction because we’re all feeling like a shell of a human being. We’re all in a state of perpetual existentialism. Questioning who we are, what we like, the path we’re on and if we’re really happy with our lives. Wondering if our lives should be more exciting, like all the people we see online. Thinking about the many ways we could take action to create a more ‘ideal reality’ – whatever that means. Or perhaps, you’re just bored with your reality and want to escape it for a few hours by looking at others – which is the reason most people resort to drinking or drugs or gambling.
Living vicariously is the drug of the 21st century, and nobody wants to talk about it because we’re all hooked.
If we’re constantly consuming the lives of other people, how are we supposed to know who we are and what we like?
One swipe, and we’re drawn to the luxurious lives of people living in New York City, next swipe, we’re wishing we were travelling around the world in a van, next swipe, we’re wondering if we could quit our jobs, start a family and live a self-sufficient lifestyle, next swipe, we’re thinking how incredible it would be to be a successful artist earning a meaningful income, next swipe, we’re wishing we were selling overpriced dressing gowns and making millions from an online business. It’s all so. Damn. Tiring.
After scrolling on my feed for what feels like hours, I swear I can literally feel my soul leaving my body – as if out of protest, my soul has clicked ‘temporarily cancel subscription’ on my life.
Yeah, it is no wonder we’re all so lost.
How can we discern what we like and dislike when we’re living inside the realities of other people more than our own? How can we trust that the path we’re on will work out for us when it looks so different from the ones we compare ourselves to online?
I suppose the main answer to all of this is to log off, but I don’t think that’s possible nowadays. Also, I much prefer to tame the digital beast than turn it off. There are many incredible opportunities that exist within our little big screens. No, I do not believe abstinence is the answer.
Instead, I believe focusing on your own reality first is the answer. Trusting that the path you’re on will lead you towards your true desires. Having faith that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Prioritising your own interests every day, even if it’s just one activity.
And perhaps I’m biassed, but I believe dedicating some time to writing everyday is a wonderful way to express your own unique thoughts and feelings about life, and this can help carve out a clearer image of your own reality.
So, buy a journal, and start living your life. Your existence is unique and deserves to be experienced. Go on a morning walk. Buy yourself a little coffee and cake. Read your book amongst the buzzing bees and blowing trees. Catch up with your friends. Walk through a local art gallery.
Your life is worth living too
Until next time,
Plot Collector
This heavily touched home, thank you for putting into words how many of us feel 💕 and perhaps we are not even aware that we feel how we do
I've been thinking about this lately as well. The way that "friends" became "followers" is rather insidious when you put it into the context of our evolving social media platforms.