I reconnected with one of my dearest friends recently. She said see ya! to Canadian winters and moved to Australia shortly after university. Keeping in touch isn't my greatest skill, and we were well overdue for a good, long catch-up. But it ended up being more enlightening than I'd expected. One particular bit went like this: I told her about something I'm deeply struggling with. She gave me her special brand of support and insight, all offered up with a dash of practical advice and personal experience. And then she admitted she felt bad for assuming everything was sparkly perfect in my life, because of what she sees on social media. I was taken aback by this, not because I think social media tells the whole story. But, rather, because I know it DOESN'T. Ever. We can't share everything. And following someone isn't friendship, no matter how much we like or comment. An example of something I get a lot: "Well I knew you were dealing with chronic illness but I thought everything was okay otherwise..." Now I'm thinking about the vast chasm between the words "Day 3 bedridden" and the reality. You read those words in a split second. For me they stretch out 72 hours and beyond. You read a sentence. I live a lifetime. And I think even the most thoughtful, giant-hearted among us are guilty of forgetting. This doesn't apply just to chronic illness, of course. There are aspects of our personal lives that we don't touch at all on social media, nor should we. It's not my responsibility to share *more* so that you'll better understand that my life's whole and messy. It's YOUR responsibility to mind the gap: to be aware of the spaces you fill with your own longings, your own insecurities, your own wishful thinkings; to be cautious of getting lost in those spaces rather than stepping purposefully across them to meaningfully connect. I'm guilty of this. I'm so guilty of this. My smart brain says, "Robin. This is just a glimpse. They're human. They're living human lives." Meanwhile, my frightened rabbit brain says, "You are the only one struggling. Look at how shiny they are. Look at that shiny life..." And off it goes. It's a forever struggle. You're not alone. xo.

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Robin May Flemingのインスタグラム(robinmay) - 1月29日 05時00分


I reconnected with one of my dearest friends recently. She said see ya! to Canadian winters and moved to Australia shortly after university. Keeping in touch isn't my greatest skill, and we were well overdue for a good, long catch-up. But it ended up being more enlightening than I'd expected.
One particular bit went like this: I told her about something I'm deeply struggling with. She gave me her special brand of support and insight, all offered up with a dash of practical advice and personal experience. And then she admitted she felt bad for assuming everything was sparkly perfect in my life, because of what she sees on social media.
I was taken aback by this, not because I think social media tells the whole story. But, rather, because I know it DOESN'T. Ever. We can't share everything. And following someone isn't friendship, no matter how much we like or comment.
An example of something I get a lot: "Well I knew you were dealing with chronic illness but I thought everything was okay otherwise..." Now I'm thinking about the vast chasm between the words "Day 3 bedridden" and the reality.
You read those words in a split second. For me they stretch out 72 hours and beyond.
You read a sentence.
I live a lifetime.
And I think even the most thoughtful, giant-hearted among us are guilty of forgetting.
This doesn't apply just to chronic illness, of course. There are aspects of our personal lives that we don't touch at all on social media, nor should we. It's not my responsibility to share *more* so that you'll better understand that my life's whole and messy. It's YOUR responsibility to mind the gap: to be aware of the spaces you fill with your own longings, your own insecurities, your own wishful thinkings; to be cautious of getting lost in those spaces rather than stepping purposefully across them to meaningfully connect.
I'm guilty of this. I'm so guilty of this. My smart brain says, "Robin. This is just a glimpse. They're human. They're living human lives." Meanwhile, my frightened rabbit brain says, "You are the only one struggling. Look at how shiny they are. Look at that shiny life..." And off it goes.
It's a forever struggle. You're not alone. xo.


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