Wool Goddess

We scroll, we tap, we like.

We double-tap a sunrise, a cosy coffee shot, a “just checking in” selfie, and we think we know someone. Maybe it’s a childhood friend we haven’t seen in years, a work colleague, a public figure, or even a stranger we follow for their aesthetic feed or witty captions.

But the truth is, we don’t know them. Not really.

Social media gives us the perception of access to people’s lives without the depth of relationship. We confuse carefully curated snippets with the full story. But what we’re really seeing is a filtered version of reality, a digital highlight reel, not the full, unedited documentary.

A Window, Not the Whole House

Think of social media like looking through a single window of someone’s home. Maybe the kitchen is immaculate, the plants are thriving, and everything looks picture-perfect. But you’re not seeing the piles of laundry in the bedroom, the sink full of dishes they cropped out, or the exhaustion behind the smile. You’re not hearing the internal monologue, the anxious thoughts, the whispered prayers at night.

You’re seeing what they choose to show. And everyone, to some degree, edits that window view.

Curated Vulnerability is Still Curated

I am trying so hard to show the real me on social media, for too long I had a “faceless” page. Lately I think even posts that appear raw, emotional, or vulnerable are often shared with intention. It’s a form of storytelling. It may be honest, but it’s still selective. We might share our heartbreak, but after we’ve processed it. We show our strength, our growth, our recovery, not always the gritty, messy parts in the middle.

So we scroll, thinking, “She’s so strong.”

“They’ve got it all together.”

“His life must be amazing.”

But we’re only seeing one layer. One frame. One choice in a million untold truths.

The Layers You’ll Never See

The real substance of a person lies beneath the posts, in how they handle disappointment, how they speak to themselves when no one’s watching, how they treat others when there’s no audience. Their fears, values, childhood wounds, private triumphs, quiet griefs, none of that fits into a square grid or a 15-second story.

We are not our feeds.

And neither is anyone else.

So, What Can We Do?

Instead of assuming we “know” someone based on what they post, let’s stay curious. Let’s resist the urge to compare our behind-the-scenes with someone else’s front-facing camera. Let’s build real relationships, ones with mess and silence and nuance, not just double-taps and heart emojis.

Ask questions. Listen deeply. Show up in real life when you can.

And most importantly, give yourself and others permission to be complex, far more than a curated collection of moments online.

Because behind every post is a person, layered, lovely, and human in ways you’ll never fully see on a screen.

Please never look at my Instagram or blog and think my life is perfect. 
Yes, I find joy in little things, but I also have sad days. Days I don’t have it all figured out. Days I eat cake and hide from the world. And that’s ok, because I’m human.

Let’s stop comparing and give ourselves permission to be beautifully complex. 

Love & healing hugs