As I’m typing this, I have one hand on my laptop (with an
ever temperamental screen) and my other on my phone, scrolling Instagram and
going green with envy at all the people on there who have the perfect
lifestyle, the perfect relationship, the perfect body… yada.. yada.. yada.
Only, their lives aren’t perfect. They probably don’t have
the perfect relationship, and they probably don’t have the perfect body either.
My surgeon once managed to ‘push in’ my pultruding hip by manipulating my spine
(the cause of said pultruding hip, scoliosis you bitch) in to such an
agonisingly painful position that my hip ‘moved’ back to where it should be.
And as I stood there, barely able to breathe from the pain and nearly going beetroot
from exertion on every muscle in my body, I realised that I too could have the
perfect body – if I became a contortionist and took my spinal surgeon
everywhere with me to get me in to that ‘perfect posing position’.
The truth is, I would never have Vogue’s definition of the ‘perfect
body’, nor would I probably have the majority of Instagram’s definition of the ‘perfect
body’ either – but it’s been through a lot, and it’s still working (just) and
is allowing me to continue to do things which make me happy (just).
Today, I ate Weetabix for breakfast, KFC for lunch and yet
more chicken and potatoes for dinner. In between then, I ate chocolate
biscuits, yoghurts and drank copious amounts of sugary tea. Would I put this on
my fitness social media accounts? Hell no. Would I put up my bit of exercise
for the day? Why hell yes.
And that, case in point, is the very definition of social
media reality. Did I want people to see me being healthy doing exercise? Yes
sir. Did I want them to see the exhaustive list of junk food I ate today? No
sir. Did I post the latter? Absolutely not. Why? Because it didn’t fit in with
the ‘lifestyle’ I wanted to show to the world. If I do it, you can bet your
bottom dollar that I am not alone in it; so the next time you sit and scroll
through Instagram whilst devouring a buttery croissant and a hot chocolate,
sighing at all the pretty men and women on there, do yourself a favour and
realise that no one can refuse a buttery croissant and hot chocolate every once
in a while too x
No comments
Post a Comment