Gen Z has grown into adolescence and adulthood in a digital age that seems to shift by the day. From the cyclical revolution of fashion that brings one style into the trend space one day and casts it out the next, to the mass hyper fixation of celebrities that changes from month to month, we are all victims of what we’ve come to know as the algorithm. Glued to our phones and fixated to the idealizations of ourselves that we circulate on social media, we have grown symbiotically attached to our presence online. For example, when I post on Instagram, I am not only considering how the photo may look on its own, but how it fits into the construction of my online personality through the curation of various media forms. In doing so, I project not only a photo of myself that I like or videos of my friends, but a meta-projection of my identity into the void of cross-perception that is the social media landscape. Analyzing my own behavior in this way, it feels unavoidable to wonder whether the smiles I share with the online world are truly authentic. As the lines blur between our online or in-person selves, do we know what it means to be truly happy? Or are we just all competing to present the ‘happiest’ versions of ourselves?  

Even with the world at our fingertips, I can’t help but notice that we seem more lost than ever. In 2023, 28% of Gen Z individuals saw a decline in their mental health as compared to 2022. While I’m no psychologist, I would consider social media and our perpetual immersion into online landscapes to be a significantly contributing factor. I can only throw my own voice into the mix in hopes that it might ripple into your consciousness the next time you watch a ‘day in my life’ video and feel like your own life isn’t enough. 

Every time we open our phones there is someone working harder than us, getting paid more than us, getting more likes, or more pleasure from their lives. The age of social media taints our perception of the world to interpret others’ success as our own failures. It shifts our attention away from enjoying the lives we have, toward seeking the life we believe we should want. We are so busy comparing our bodies and minds to the intangible mass of our peers, we have lost sight of how to accomplish the goals we set for ourselves and live in the precise moment.  And, due to the widespread influence of content creators and the ways in which online trends shape the intricacies of our daily lives, lifestyles that are largely sought after, are fed to us through the platforms of influencers and brands.  

I am particularly concerned by the ways these trend cycles have filtered into our perceptions of health, wellness and fitness. I cannot be alone in noticing that, over the past year or so, health and fitness influences have come to dominate my feed. Clad in Gymshark, sponsored by juice cleanse companies and claiming the knowledge to help you Lose Weight Fast (!), health and fitness content creators have come to dominate the space sought out by people looking to improve their overall health. Often, clicking a link in their bio leads directly to Amazon, or other online storefronts, where you can buy products from their 10-step skincare routine, booty-lifting leggings, or vitamins to make your sweat smell like goji berries, all in mere seconds. As our perceptions of health become increasingly influenced by the marketization of ‘wellness products’ so does our belief that to be our happiest, best selves, we must buy some other thing to make it happen.  

But I am here to tell you there is no commodity that will make you truly happier, just like there is no supplement for gratitude or contentment. And yet, even I haven’t deleted social media completely from my life. No matter how hard I try, or how long I sit and think about the strange mechanisms of life online, I cannot escape from the need to participate in the rat race to the idealized life we all appear to be chasing. Whether or not you are actively trying to ‘beat’ your peers, we are all in the ring, competing for happiness and contributing to the fantasization of our own lives through our screens. I know better than to try to urge anyone to delete social media at this point - I know that many of us are already in too deep. Instead, I’ll ask you to join me in observing more deeply the way that you interact with the online world; notice how you react to different posts as you mindlessly scroll after a lecture. If you cannot remove it from your life entirely, question how it controls you and who you might be without it. Would you be different?