The Internet used to be my happy place, but lately it’s only been good for wasting my time and killing my vibe. As much as I’d love to take some responsibility for my feelings, there’s a list of culprits that I’d much rather put on blast instead. There’s 9 of you, and you gotta go.
- The person who shares child and animal abuse stories. I know this planet is a sick one, people strap bombs to themselves every. Single. Day. Share less, spend more. Spend more time, money, and energy on things that make this place a little less awful. Hold your children, donate to an animal rescue. Do something, literally anything, other than remind me that unthinkable things are happening to our most vulnerable populations. It’s been nice seeing you on here (it hasn’t), but our time together is over. Delete.
- The person who is “real.” You know who you are, your version of honesty means sharing that you sometimes cuss. Your bad day consists of a spilled cup of coffee. Holy smokes, thank you for laying it all out there. There’s something really off-putting (and obvious) about people that are trying so hard to be relatable. Stick to filtering pictures of lattes in locally owned cafes.
- The person who is only pretty. 1,245 posts and 1,243 of them are selfies. I’m not faulting you for being beautiful and I’m not jealous, but COME ONNNNN. Do what you do, the Internet loves you. But I need a side of personality to accompany the main dish. Or an opinion about something other than a matte lipstick.
- The ex reality TV star. Hey, I really liked you on season 7 of The Bachelorette. I was excited to come here and see pictures of your wedding/baby/dog/perfectly tanned body… but after every heartfelt message you’re telling me to use your promo code for 15 percent off. Make it 25 and then we can talk, until then, goodbye. (Preferably for something that doesn’t train my waist)
- The lifestyle blogger. Making people feel like shit since your invention. Your house is so white, so clean. You talk about simplifying and de-cluttering your space. You use more filters than an Instagram model and the only thing you put more time into than your local farmers market is taking pictures of it for your blog. You’re easy to spot because your feed is a mix of Ikea meets West Elm, your personality is like plain toast, and you use words like organic for things other than food. You live your life for the pictures, and while they are quite lovely, I’m keeping my high school graduation gown and I need more than a mason jar full of flowers on my nightstand.
- Miss Doom and Gloom. You’re like the person who shares the animal abuse stories, except you’ve one-upped them because you’ve confused status updates with a personal diary. It’s rants, it’s raves, good things might happen to you, but we don’t hear about them. You are the human version of Fox News and I have elitist grandparents for that. I can’t delete them from my life, so I need to improve where I can.
- The person in direct sales. You’re asking me how my family is and then all the sudden I’ve found myself on the very bottom of a pyramid scheme. You hate the term pyramid scheme. I appreciate the fact that your feed is generally inspiring, uplifting, and feel good… but there’s a vague air of inauthenticity in every post. On the list of offenders, you’re last. I will keep you on deck for when I realize my summer bod hasn’t arrived and I need to wrap it in leggings or want to substitute good habits and consistency with a cleanse of some sort.
- The Perfect Mom. Enough of you. I’m so glad you have your crap together long enough to snap your pics. You’ll be sure to tell me about the blow out or tantrum that happened before, during, or after your photo-shoot. Because you’re just a regular mom, so relatable. It took almost two years and I thought that with time, and your guidance I might master how to pair stylish sneakers with the shit show that is motherhood. You make me feel more bad than good, catch ya never.
- Rich people and celebrities. You’re vacationing in France, you’re going to music festivals I haven’t heard of yet. You’re hanging out with really attractive people doing really expensive things. You’re always by a large body of beautiful coastal water or working out with a trainer. I live in the Midwest, it’s cold 9 months a year, and I can’t afford to add a protein to my salad. You make me want more when I was already content with less. You aren’t aspirational; you just make me feel like ass.
Who you follow does impact how you feel. What we feed our minds is as important as what we feed our bodies; let’s curate a feed that isn’t cognitive junk food.
Scarlett is a stay at home-ish mom, bartender, and wife. You can follow her on Instagram.