There are few things in this grand, baffling theatre of life that bring me quite as much unadulterated, slightly cynical joy as scrolling through my social media feed and encountering the latest wave of hyper-inspirational, motivation-on-steroids posts.
You know the ones. They’re usually accompanied by a filtered photo of someone looking pensively into the middle distance, or perhaps dramatically silhouetted against a sunset they definitely didn’t Photoshop to look that vibrant. And then come the words. Oh, the words.
My personal favorites, the champions of the vague-but-earnest brigade, are undoubtedly “I’m living my truth” and its equally perplexing cousin, “I’m living my best life.” Every time I see them, a little part of my soul cackles, and another part – the part that enjoys a good intellectual wrestling match – immediately wants to butt in and ask, quite simply, “So, what does that even mean?”
Seriously. What does “living your truth” entail? Is it like, a literal truth? Are you finally admitting you secretly prefer pineapple on pizza, even though you’ve publicly denounced it for years? Is your truth that you’ve secretly been binge-watching reality TV instead of reading that Pulitzer-winning novel? Because if so, friend, I’m living my truth, too, and it involves a lot of questionable snacking decisions and the occasional existential crisis over what constitutes a “healthy” amount of screen time.
And “living my best life”? Are you literally quantifying your life? Is there some kind of universal metric by which we measure “bestness”? Did you finally achieve optimal pillow fluffiness? Did you manage to parallel park on the first try? Because if our “best lives” are measured by the absence of stubbed toes and the consistent availability of quality Buff coffee, then yes, I, too, occasionally brush with peak existence.
But the way these phrases are thrown around, you’d think people are out here single-handedly solving world peace while simultaneously mastering interpretive dance and achieving financial independence before noon. And somehow, it always looks like they’re just… sitting at a café with a fancy latte.
Here’s my challenge, and trust me, it’s a fun one: next time you’re face-to-face with someone who drops one of these aspirational bombshells, simply followup. Unflinchingly. Look them dead in the eye – or, if you’re brave enough, through the screen in a comment – and ask, “Oh, really? Can you give me an example of what that looks like for you?” Or, my personal favorite, “So, what exactly is your truth, and how are you living it?”
I guarantee you, the reaction will be priceless. The eloquent, poised individual who just moments ago was radiating pure, unadulterated #bliss will suddenly look a little like a deer caught in headlights. The smooth, confident tone will dissipate faster than your New Year’s resolutions. There will be stammering. There will be vague hand gestures. They might even say something about “just, you know, being… me.” Which, last time I checked, is what everyone is doing, whether they’re living their truth, their lie or just their Tuesday.
Why the sudden verbal breakdown? Because you’ve caught them off script. These phrases, you see, are the pre-packaged, microwaveable meals of self-expression. They’re designed to sound profound without actually being profound. They’re buzzwords, little sonic confetti cannons of aspiration, meant to impress rather than inform. They’re like saying you’re “optimizing synergy” in a business meeting; it sounds good, but nobody truly knows what it means, and if you ask, you just get more buzzwords.
Or the "manifesting" folks. Oh-my-fucking-cripes. How many people "manifest" for a big lottery win because they "deserve it" and, well, how does it work out for them? Maybe I'll save this for another rant on here.
Then there’s the “I’m on a journey” crowd or the ones who are “entering a new chapter.”
My friends, unless you’ve actually purchased a ticket and are currently en route to a physically distinct location, or you’ve just signed a book deal, you’re probably just… experiencing Monday. Life is, inherently, a journey. Every single day. Even when you’re just sitting on your couch watching cat videos and considering whether you have enough energy to go to the fridge, you’re on a journey. A very short, perhaps ill-advised, but still a journey. And as for “new chapters,” unless you’ve recently moved continents, gotten married, had a child or finally cleaned out that junk drawer that’s been mocking you for years, chances are you’re just turning the page on a slightly different font size.
Honestly, I suspect a lot of this performative positivity is just a very elaborate, public way of trying to convince themselves – and everyone else – that they’re truly happy. Because who wants to admit their truth is that they’re currently questioning every life decision they’ve ever made while navigating a leaky faucet and a sudden urge to buy a miniature donkey? That’s my truth, a lot of the time, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t look great with a Valencia filter.
Maybe, just maybe, instead of declaring we’re living our truth or our best life, we could just say, “Hey, I’m having a pretty decent day,” or “You know what? Things are a bit messy, but I’m figuring it out.” Or even, “I just had a really good sandwich.” Because those are tangible. They’re real. And when someone asks what that means, you can actually tell them about the perfectly toasted bread and the exquisite ratio of ham to cheese. No stammering required.
So, the next time you feel the urge to declare your truth to the digital world, pause for a moment. Ask yourself: if someone looked me in the eye and asked for an example, would I be able to provide one without resorting to a series of vague, inspirational-quote-level platitudes?
If the answer is no, perhaps save it for your diary. And if it’s yes, then please, for the love of all that is genuine, share it. Because I’m genuinely interested. But probably still laughing. It’s my truth, after all.