Why is comparison exhaustion next level?
a deeper dive into social media and the power of top mom influencers
ICYMI: Who do I follow? Last week, we kicked off 2024 with a look at social media and momfluencers. It was a buzzy post that welcomed lots of new readers to
—hi, hello! Let’s keep the conversation going today.
Did you know that I was a mommy blogger/influencer back in 2016 when I was deeply, deeply single and had no children even close to existence? Well, sort of—8 years ago, Scary Mommy published a letter that I wrote to my childhood fairy, Tillie, after it went viral on Medium.
I look back on this essay-of-sorts with fresh eyes now that I’m a mom. Did this letter thanking my childhood fairy for her magical presence in my life help or harm new moms who read it?
It’s a heartwarming piece that makes you think, “Aww, that’s so sweet!” as I read Tillie’s tiny notes that I saved as keepsakes and reflected on them as an adult.
“Don’t forget, keep smiling and the world will smile on you!”
I don’t know, Tillie. Sometimes the world just doesn’t smile. Maybe you left that part out on purpose.
But, PHEWWW, wasn’t my mom (presumably, Tillie’s creator) such an influencer back in the day before Instagram was even a thing?! Shoot, we didn’t even have Internet when secret fairy notes mysteriously appeared on my nightstand while I slept. My friend Kaitlynn’s fairy, Star Dust, left me a note and a Reese’s during a sleepover. I came home and, what do you know?, I met Tillie a night later. Pure magic.
I can imagine this today in an Instagram reel with a modern depiction: “Here’s how I created a magical secret fairy pen pal for my young daughter” with a *perfect* mother who moves around like an Energizer bunny to craft these tiny wonders on glossy paper with glittery pens, placed inside an engraved wooden box with her daughter’s initials (all items generously gifted by her sponsors). Shoot, Modern Day Tillie probably leaves a $20 instead of a Reese’s. Her daughter wakes up glowing! Amazed! Saved! They embrace! The mother tosses her blow-dried loosely tousled hair and checks “create magic” off her to-do list. And then the reel begins again.
My mother set the bar HIGH on imagination and creativity. Once a teacher, always a teacher. It brought her pure joy to create memorable moments for us in our childhood. She didn’t follow how-to reels on Instagram for inspiration. She took me to playdates and swapped ideas with other moms. She dreamed up ideas all on her own.
Hopefully the letter to Tillie served as a gentle nudge to moms aspiring to add some magic to their young daughters’ lives, looking for a way to connect and leave signs of hope. I could imagine a tired mom today seeing the fictitious version of this on Instagram and feeling like she wasn’t measuring up if her daughter had yet to meet her mysterious fairy who dashed into her room while she was sleeping to leave wise words of inspiration that she would cherish for a lifetime.
Believe me, I’m trying hard to live up to the bar my mom set for creating magic as I dream of creative ways to raise my son. Now add in all the magical modern Instagram influencers and I’m exhausted. Wake me up when my son leaves the nest.
Last week, we talked about social media and momfluencers, with an introduction to
’s book, Momfluenced: Inside the Maddening, Picture-Perfect World of Mommy Influencer Culture.It’s a hot topic, and many of you wanted more.
“My mother made motherhood look like beautiful magic. As a kid, I never considered whether or not I’d become a mother because she showed me that there was nothing more exciting one could be. She made me believe that motherhood was a source of ultimate power that could be used to create a world in which you might be your best, truest self. Her performance was so big I got lost in it. Well before I would spend hours scrolling Instagram looking for new, fresher maternal performances to inform my own… my views of ‘Mother’ were informed almost entirely through what my own mom made of the role.”
What if we’re created as humans to follow our mothers and have this innate desire to mimic her version of mothering? Or perhaps you had a less-than-desirable childhood, and you’ve gone the opposite way with determination to become a different type of mother.
This word influence isn’t a new concept. But what is new and overwhelming and something I’m convinced we’re not wired to handle is attempting to navigate the influence of literally millions (billions?) of other mothers. Maybe we’re built to handle the influence of our own grandmothers and aunts and neighbors to craft our versions of ideal motherhood. But certainly not millions of strangers.
Bestselling author,
, recently wrote about saying goodbye to Instagram, an unexpected plot twist for the author of a memoir about growing up online. But like so many others, she’s reflecting on her relationship with social media. Why did she quit? Here are three of my favorite of Emma’s reasons for breaking up with Instagram:
“Influencer culture” is getting ickier.
Constantly seeing people’s perfected images breeds comparison culture.
It often perpetuates ‘newness’ culture. Rapidly-produced content. The must-do on-trend tourist spots. Fast fashion.
In one minute of scrolling, I can end up completely deflated—look at her doing it all. I’m not doing all that. What am I doing wrong? My son screamed and thrashed his whole body on the ground at the holiday light festival that everyone posted as the must-do trendy event for kids. How were those other families posing so perfectly in the magical light tunnel? What did I do wrong? Am I a bad mom?
Hear me out: when I step back and catch my breath, I know the grounded truth behind these crazy questions. I am not doing anything wrong. My son is acting like a normal toddler. Those families likely struggled to create that seemingly perfect picture. I am a good mom.
But when we absorb so many images on social media, we don’t even realize the extent of how it’s shaping our views of motherhood and what it looks like to “measure up” to an unattainable and unrealistic standard.
’s recent essay for (her “rant,” as she calls it) examines influencers posting photos together and what it really says about true friendship off the screen. It has me thinking about ALL THIS (see my own rant above) and what it means for shaping our view of motherhood.“Part of why many (most?) influencer friends who present their friendship for our consumption are not friends in the truest sense is that underneath the photo is an exchange of goods and services. It’s a bummer to say, but it’s true. We’d all be wise to remember it when we’re scrolling.”
Motherhood is lonely enough. Making and keeping friends (like, real friends who know your true story off the screen) is hard enough when you’re doing a full-time job that’s private and exhausting and sometimes unrewarding and pays you exactly $0.
Do we really need to absorb image after image of *perfect* mothers getting together to create magical memorable moments for their kids that are “must-do” and “on-trend”? As Katelyn reminds us, there’s likely a marketing associate behind these posed friendship photos looking to pump up brand deals and book sales. How easy it is to forget what’s actually going on behind the scenes of these seemingly perfect moments with BFF moms who just so happen to live on the same street.
I’ll leave you with this…
Today I’m home in my pajamas. My son is napping, also still in his pajamas. I visited my aunt yesterday and she reminded me that “back in the day” they would fold laundry and turn on their soap operas to make it through a long and exhausting and mundane day of raising kids. Maybe call their sister or best friend on the old telephone when they felt lonely.
They didn’t have millions and billions of stranger moms to compare themselves to on social media. Maybe they heard about a “must-do” activity at playgroup, but that’s it. There wasn’t the same pressure to go everywhere and do everything and craft these magical moments at all hours of the day for their children. They didn’t google for answers to find blackout curtains and sound machines that everyone used and would change their lives.
So, today, I’m taking a note from her book. I’ll create a slow and quiet day at home with my son. We’ll go nowhere and do nothing. Sounds beautifully magical to me, and that’s all the influence I need for right now.
Give these a try…
‘Tis the season for reflection and forming new habits. I enjoyed this episode of The Lazy Genius podcast featuring James Clear, the author of Atomic Habits. I’ve read the full book, but this is a nice introduction to the concept of identity. Several people have said to me, “Oh, I want to scroll less on social media, too!” But what is our why? For me, I want to be a mom who is less influenced by comparison culture of momfluencers. I want to be a mom who is engaged with my son off the screen and not feeling this heavy pit of not measuring up. I want to be a mom who crafts my version of ideal motherhood without the help of millions of strangers on social media.
- ’s book, Momfluenced: Inside the Maddening, Picture-Perfect World of Mommy Influencer Culture has helped me start to put words to these thoughts and feelings. Thank you, Sara! I highly recommend this book if you’re interested in these hot topics. Mine is a borrowed copy from the library that I’m sad to return, but hey, my best friend is waiting to check it out when I return it, so there she goes :)
Let’s wrap this up with a little off-the-screen journaling prompt, shall we? What is your “why” for wanting to scroll less on social media or say goodbye completely? How do you feel after long stretches of scrolling and consuming images of motherhood *perfection*? Who are your offline influencers (mother, grandmother, aunts, neighbors, cousins, etc.) who have helped shaped your ideal version of motherhood? Where do you want to turn for guidance in 2024?