Sometimes I pretend random people compliment me because I’m so insecure that even fictional validation and attention makes me feel good about myself.
Sometimes I pretend I’m super intelligent but I actually don’t know when to use a comma so I just chuck in full stops and hope for the best.
Sometimes I pretend I’m a super Disney fan but really I just like going there because I can show off as it’s really expensive, shop for loads of unnecessary tat first, take loads of Insta worthy photos and eat mountains of crap food.
Sometimes I pretend my followers are friends so that they like me and will pay me compliments and line my pockets buying my shit over priced merch.
(I need to stop but this is fast becoming my new favourite game
![Rolling on the floor laughing :rofl: 🤣](https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/gh/joypixels/emoji-assets@5.0/png/64/1f923.png)
![Rolling on the floor laughing :rofl: 🤣](https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/gh/joypixels/emoji-assets@5.0/png/64/1f923.png)
)
sometimes i share sly photos of my poorly dad without his knowledge, with the sole intention of garnering lots of sympathetic comments and a guaranteed increase in engagement.
sometimes i pretend that i'm spending time with my son because i actually
want to do, but then prove my true intentions by labelling my post as a #gifted trip.
sometimes i reluctantly buy items of clothing that actually fit me properly, but manipulate it as an opportunity to dedicate a post to "admitting" i "sized up", because i know that my comments will be filled with people applauding me as brave.
sometimes i pretend to have invented basic words which are regularly used by people who speak english, because - despite my masters-level intelligence - i think it's endearing to present myself as ditzy.
sometimes i force my kids to get up while it's still dark outside to pose in photos for content just so i can post it on my grid as early as possible. #priorities
sometimes i pretend to suffer from health conditions i have never experienced, and refer to mental health struggles and therapy, because i know it will cause a flood of comments filled with sympathy and attention, which makes me feel validated.
sometimes i post content aimed at teenage ex-boyfriends, desperately hoping they'll see it and know what they missed out on! #crackingrack
sometimes i share photos of my kids as toddlers and claim i wish incould go back in time and sniff their heads, when actually i have made it publicly very clear that i hated being a mother when my kids were of baby/toddler age.
sometimes i body shame other women because their bodies aren't a mirror replica of my own, so i resort to skinny shaming and mocking anyone who exercises, because tearing other women down makes me feel better about myself.
sometimes i state that i am a "good mum" because i know i'm not, but i can rely on people responding with guarantees that i am a fantastic mother, which eradicates any flutters of guilt that i constantly exploit my kids.
sometimes i wish i could have another baby solely for content, but steve adamantly refused to engage in "private parts action", so i had to make do with a puppy.
sometimes i demand my husband buy me flowers so i can share photos on SM and recieve validation that my loveless marriage is #coulkegoals and inspirational, which makes me feel less secure about the fact that he's in love with another man.
sometimes i realise how utterly miserable i am trapped in a loveless marriage with two kids i actively avoid spending time with and no hope of ever returning to a career in teaching, so i fill the huge void in my life with a habit of compulsively over-spending on plastic tat, because it brings me a fleeting moment of happiness.
sometimes i am fully aware that i am not comfortable or confident in my body, but i continue to label myself as a body-confident role model to reel in more followers and then teach them to define themselves entirely by their clothes size, and hand out tips on how to conceal their insecurities.