Share the ugly

If you follow any big blogger regularly, I'm sure you've read that post.  The post that explains they're real people with real feelings who don't always have perfectly fluffed throw pillows and sometimes spill their bowls of Cheerios on the floor.  They explain just because they share these perfectly refined, filtered, staged photos on Instagram it doesn't mean they are in fact people with unfolded laundry on their bedroom floors.  (They just kept that out of the shot.)

This whole notion of bloggers appearing perfect and polished 24/7 has always interested me. Because on one hand, I know that's not true.  They're human beings, some with kids, others with a few puppies.  None of them can simply look that good all the time.  It's just a fact.  But on the other hand, my logical thinking becomes clouded by always, always seeing those perfectly refined and polished pictures.  Yes, the ones where the mom is chasing her 2-year-old in Christian Louboutins.  (I mean, really?)

So I say, share the ugly.

We don't like to share the ugly for reasons I've mentioned before like seeming dramatic or we're just private people.  But if we only share the perfectly polished pictures, we will eventually be seen as less relate-able, less human, and inevitably be put on this pedestal labeled "perfection" by all who read or see our pictures and posts.

I get some people like to be private.  And some would think that sharing my anxiety disorder journey is over-sharing.  But if you're choosing to be a face on the Internet, you need to be human.  And being human encompasses it all - the polished, the unpolished, and the semi-polished.

It always saddens me when I come across those "tipping-point" posts from big-time bloggers. Because I can't imagine the burden of needing to feel perfect all the time or being told your life is perfect when it is in fact not.

It's freeing to let go of perfection, to acknowledge we're all human who go through the ups and downs.  And it's refreshing to see someone with perfectly lit selfies to once in a while say

hey I walked into a meeting with toilet paper on my shoe.

We've all be there, sister.


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