“Social Media Is Not Real Life”
I don’t post selfies on Instagram, in fact I rarely post anything on Instagram — which is maybe not what you’d expect from someone who studies social media at university. It’s not that I think there’s anything wrong with selfies, I just can’t quite wrap my head around why anyone else would want to see it, or even more horrifying, why I’d want to be able to see a definite and quantifiable number of people who think this selfie is worthy of a “like”.
For social media influencers, however, their livelihood, and often own self-worth, is held within these numbers and perceptions of perfection. In a time where anyone is able to breakthrough the barriers of fame, does anyone actually know what they’re in for?
Just a few years ago, access to celebrity and fame was mostly safeguarded by gatekeepers, who could pick and choose the perfect up-and-coming teen to be The Face that every other teen wanted to be. But with the introduction of social media, anyone with a camera and decent wifi can now let themselves in through the “social media side-door” and become an online influencer of self-branding and success.
Increasingly, however, we are seeing these influencers struggling with the effects of fame, with more and more influencers needing to take a “digital detox” or walking away from the limelight altogether.
If you were someone who mildly kept up with nonsensical twitter news and the kind of YouTube drama that was then just starting to take off, you may remember the story of Essena O’Neill. In 2015, the then 18-year-old quit social media, leaving behind her half a million followers and thousands of dollars in lucrative Instagram brand deals. Now branded a “former internet celebrity,” Essena was once, in her social media golden age, a lifestyle influencer who preached the benefits of staying healthy and advocating for environmentalism and veganism. By all accounts, including her own picture perfect Instagram, Essena was living out her dream.
So when Essena suddenly announced she’d had enough of the deceptive and self-serving industry she’d found herself in, she deleted her social accounts and left a number of Instagram posts with altered captions, shining a light on the “truth” behind the photos and the industry. Her reason? “Social media is not real life,” is what she changed the name of her Instagram account to. She explained that she had been living her life with the sole purpose of getting likes so she could feel validated by the numbers on the screen. This move was, apparently, so shocking that her story made both national and international headlines, covered by everyone from Teen Vogue, to the Washington Post.
Somewhat unfortunately for O’Neill, in trying to leave her insta-fame behind, she perhaps unwittingly launched herself into the thralls of internet-wide fame for a few weeks as media outlets ate up the chance to belittle the job of an influencer whilst touting the dangers of Instagram under one neat little headline that anyone-who-isn’t-a-millennial would love.
Looking back, her story was perhaps so attractive to the media because Essena was one of the first influencers to not only speak-out about the mental toll influencers face, but to actually do something about it, brand deals be damned.
Since then, “YouTuber Burnout”, “Digital Detoxes” and “indefinite Instagram breaks” have found their way more frequently into online vocabulary as influencers speak out about the impact their job has had on their mental health.
One recent study confirmed that the more time people reported spending on Instagram, the more anxious and depressed they felt. Another study concluded that higher rates of social media use is also linked to lower levels of self esteem. This comparative culture that platforms like Instagram encourage, has left both audiences and influencers alike comparing themselves to the idealised images of other influencers — confusing everyone’s “social comparison radar” and establishing a false sense of what average really is.
Influencers have reported feeling “tied to an inauthentic identity” trying to chase the type of perfection audiences are expecting to see, but nevertheless continuing to do so in the hopes of attracting a new follower or brand deal.
All of this results in a vicious cycle — influencers themselves are portraying their lives and jobs as picturesque and perfect, sending a message to both audiences and wannabe influencers that their lives could be this great, too. But as another follower picks up their camera and signs up for a new Instagram account in that chase for the perfect life of an influencer, they are already heading down a deception-covered path.
But is it really necessary for influencers to delete their accounts and walk away from the business they painstakingly built one post at a time? Is a complete digital detox the only way to stop this mental-health damaging cycle in its tracks? Personally, I don’t think so. Although the dangers of social media, and the effects it can have on anyone’s mental health are very real, it seems the answer to this question may be as simple as dropping the rose coloured filter influencers feel like they’ve been forced to live behind.
If I may speak for mostly everyone between the ages of 18 and 30, we’re under no illusion that an influencer’s Instagram is anything but a personal highlights reel that is more likely to reflect your iPhone in those new sunglasses you’ve got a promo code for than it is your real life. If instead of perfection, we all aim for a little more authenticity and truth online, we can maybe start to tackle the unrealistic and unfair expectations placed on everyone — from followers to influencers alike.
