I am happy with my life and I don't need social media to tell me so.
When I was a little girl, I read a book called The Snow Queen by Mary Engelbreit. In the story, goblins or demons of some sort drop a wicked mirror down to earth, where it shatters. A little boy gets a shard of the evil mirror in his eye and is no longer able to see the beauty around him. His sister cries when he destroys the beautiful roses lining their bedroom window. I can't remember how the rest of the story goes, but I feel like I too have had a shard of glass in my own eye that has kept me from seeing beauty that isn't on the internet.
Two months ago, I despaired at my computer hard drive crashing and burning. I thought that it was the end of the world. I no longer had Photoshop, iTunes, or all the bookmarks to my favorite blogs. As it turns out, this was the best possible thing to ever happen to me. No longer do I groan with inadequacy at the beautiful homes and stories on other blogs. No longer do I scoff at bloggers who copy Naomi Davis. Because I don't care. Social media obscured my vision to reality. I cared about things and people who could in no way affect me unless I let them.
I've stopped blogging and Pinterest-ing. I used to think that if I actually accomplished everything I saw on Pinterest, that I'd be happy. That if only my blog could be supremely cute and awesome, I would be content. You're probably thinking, duh, those things do not make a girl happy. Playing with my hobbit, tending my garden, and reading new books is what makes me happy. Coincidentally, it also makes me me.
This summer, I have played on the floor. I have gotten dirty. I taught my little one how to pull weeds and not the pretty flowers. I grew gladiolus, hollyhocks, black-eyed susans, geraniums, and nine-foot tall sunflowers. I took pleasure in watching my garden and my little girl blossom. I read books. Lots of books. I made more friends than I care to count. I participated in life. I made my grandmother's recipe for chocolate meringue pie and didn't Instagram or tweet about it.
I guess what I'm trying to convey through this post is that I've found reality to be so much sweeter than virtual reality. I've stopped comparing myself to the seemingly perfect lives of others. I'm happy for them in their lovely lives, but I'm going to stop letting that affect me. I have power over my thoughts. And for now, those nasty thoughts where I compare my home, my creativity, my looks to others are being shuutttt doowwwwnnnn and told to go sit in a corner. Because that's where they belong. Not in the way of the beautifully imperfect life that I have.