We just had a long holiday weekend, and my social media has been flooded with photos of people having more fun than me. Everyone from Taylor Swift–I don’t think you should be able to have Tom Hiddleston and a waterslide–to buddies from high school were posting photos of beaches and cottages and firework displays.
Oh don’t get me wrong: I’m guilty of virtual bragging too. My Instagram feed features plenty of fireworks and beaches. What my social media feed does not show is that at the DIY fireworks display, a lit bucket of fireworks tipped over and started to fire towards children who scattered in fear. Nor do my beach photos show that I’m not frolicking in Ibiza or on the Cape, but rather in a lakeside town best known for its gathering of bikers every Friday 13th and the sale of grey market cigarettes.
I’m sure other people’s photos are similarly edited, but it sure does not seem that way when looking in from the outside.
For every online picture of a dock, I envision campfires, waterskiing and general merriment. Then I compare those to my reality of shifting our straw beach mats slightly to the left, so the fully tattooed family didn’t drop too many cigarette ashes on our things.
Holiday envy can be even worse if you’ve recently experienced a setback. The first weekend after I was separated was the Family Day long weekend. Family Day tends to fall during the same week as Valentine’s Day because, in spite of our cool Prime Minister, Canadians really are that cruel. That year, we were booked to go to the Bahamas, but I couldn’t face making the trip on my own so instead, we all sat around and cried. Good times. Thank God, these were the days before Instagram.
When we sold our cottage we’d had for two decades, it made long weekends even harder. I realize that having a second property is the very definition of luxury, but it doesn’t feel that way at times. On a long, lonely weekend in May, it feels more akin to a violation of one’s human rights.
When I’m not freaking out, I’m a deeply logical person and continually remind myself not to compare my insides to other people’s outsides and to borrow the wise words of Anne Lamott. I try to focus on being grateful for what I have: healthy kids, a great fiancé, a working car and money for ice cream and hot dogs. I try to take all that I learn in yoga and tamp down my schadenfreude-filled thoughts.
Still, there’s tiny part of me that’s immune to zen: the part of me who hopes that next year, on the first major, long weekend of summer, it rains for three days straight. All you need is a zeitgeist-y book and a good bottle of wine to fake a perfect rainy day on Instagram.
4 thoughts on “Long Weekend Envy”
I left Instagram because whilst I love all the pretty feeds and I met some amazing people on there (I’m actually sitting opposite one of them as I type this!) there’s also something a little odd about grow-ups spending hours perfecting their squares and I found some people get quite competitive. I have a friend who admits to spending eight hours a week taking photos and working on attracting followers (yet she doesn’t have a blog or a business – this isn’t part of a bigger strategy). She appears to have a very full and fabulous single life in London, and yet the reality is she’s actually quite lonely. Partly because it’s impossible to have a proper conversation with someone who can’t talk or listen when they’re after the ‘perfect’ shot all the time. So don’t feel too bad, your life sounds lovely, even if it’s not always Insta-worthy. Esther xx
Thanks, Esther. I’ve also found great real life connections through the social media world. That’s the best part. Then you get to see the person behind the airbrushing! Honesty is what drew me to 1010. Y’all keep it real! xo
Interesting that you chose this as your blog topic because I’ve been feeling the same way. It sometimes seems like every third person’s on a boat or at a fabulous rental in Positano with their husband and/or children. I have none of those. While I’m not jealous, it does make me long for a life and someone to share it with. I miss that. xoxo, Brenda
I think for every “life is perfect” post, we need to see the kids fighting and the hubby hogging the remote and the bill for boat maintenance! I am drawn to people like you who share all parts of themselves: good, bad and ugly (although with you, I’ve seen no ugly!!) It’s amazing the number of times I’ve been envious of someone, met them in real life, shared our stories, and ended up feeling grateful for my own situation. We all have lives filled with amazing things and awful thing: it’s just hard to keep that in mind sometimes isn’t it. xoxo
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