Everything is Content, and I’m So Tired.

I post everything. 

The unhinged 2 am thoughts. The blurry selfies with slow lofi music in the background romanticising the dark academia life. The deeply personal revelations disguised as brainrot memes. If there is a thought in my head, there’s a high chance it’s already made it to my feed, or sitting in my drafts waiting for the right moment of chaos. It’s the kind of stuff that would make my therapist concerned, if I had one. 

I am unapologetically, chronically online. If emotional oversharing was a sport, I’d have a medal, a sponsorship deal, and a nervous breakdown.

I’ve basically built a personality around being unfiltered online. Not in the cute, curated “hot mess” way. More in the “why did she post it and vanish for 48 hours straight” way. And for the most part, I’ve owned it. The internet is where I overshare, where I spiral in lowercase, where I make emotional instability…aesthetic. 

But lately something’s shifted. Not in the “when was the last time I touched grass” way. Just in a quiet creeping exhaustion that hits when I open the app and I realize I don’t have the energy to perform my feelings anymore. To meme my feelings anymore. Because, that’s what it is sometimes, a performance. And I’m exhausted to turn every single internal earthquake into a digestible, caption worthy-experience. 

I Used to Call It Coping. Now I’m Not Sure.

For the longest time, I told myself that posting was therapeutic. And not going to lie, sometimes it is. There’s something incredibly validating about sharing your inner chaos and getting messages saying “mood” or “this made me feel seen”. In a weird way, it makes loneliness feel less….loud. 

But there’s a fine line between being honest and turning your feelings into a content strategy. And somewhere along the way, I crossed it. 

I started noticing that I couldn’t just feel things anymore. I had to shape them. Package them. Give them a soundtrack and an emotional arc. Even in the depths of sadness, part of my brain was like, “Okay but would this hit harder if I posted it at midnight with Mac Miller’s Good News in the background?” Like  girl, can I cry in peace? 

Sad, But Make it Pretty. 

There’s a weird pressure to suffer aesthetically now. If I’m crying, it better be under soft lighting with my mascara just lightly smudged, not too messy, just enough to look vulnerable. 

If I’m having a mental health dip, it should come with a punchy caption and spotify song plastered on my feed. If I go ghost for a few days? I owe the algorithm a comeback carousel and a caption like, “took a break to breathe, here’s what’s been grounding me lately!”

But here’s the thing: sometimes I’m not grounding. I’m not journaling. I’m not cooking as a therapeutic experience as if I'm in my healing girl era. Sometimes I’m just lying on the floor, wondering if I'm  allowed to feel bad without documenting it. 

Can I be a soft girl online? Can I cry without taking a boomerang first? 

Not everything needs to be a digital diary entry. Not every uncomfortable feeling has to be repackaged as a “soft girl” healing moment. Sometimes, I’m just going through it and it does not need a “lagos” filter on top. 

Chaos Is Still Coming, Just Not Always With Captions.

So, no I’m not logging off. I’m not quitting socials. I’m not going to start writing letters and start burying my feelings in journals. I will still be chronically online, still romanticising my life through blurry images and feral captions. I will still write captions like “sick but in a hot way” at 3:00 am. With zero context. I will still turn small heartbreaks into cinematic content (I’m a sagittarius what did you expect?).

Because that’s how I cope. It’s how I connect. 

But maybe, just maybe, I do not owe the internet all of me. Maybe some things can stay blurry, uncaptioned, and unposted. Maybe I can feel things without translating them into aesthetic pain. And maybe being unhinged isn’t about broadcasting every emotion, but letting myself fully have them, even the ugly ones, without needing applause or affirmation. 

So here I am, still posting online, still being me. Just not for content. Not always. Sometimes for me, sometimes for no one. 

And honestly? 

That is the most unhinged thing I’ve ever done in a while ✨