Instagram Vs Reality…

Instagram. A wonderful invention for those that love photography and want to dip their toes into social media but without having to write too much.

A way to show off.

A way to show the world things you’re passionate about.

It’s also become a Mecca for photos of normal sh*t being made to look like its beautiful sh*t.

But this is because you almost¬†have to do it. Before I started blogging, I just used it for posting photos from holidays and days out. Now I use it 2/3 times most days to post allsorts of stuff because as a blogger, “that’s what you have to do”. You have to be seen to be being ‘social’.

As I said, Instagram is wonderful for making the most inane of things, pretty. Many People on there also make out that their lives are perfect, amazing, exciting, flawless even, when actually, I’m pretty certain that what their posting on there and what goes on behind closed doors are two very different things.

So, in order to prove a point, here are my examples…

1) Lunch.

This is what I posted on Instagram…


This is what was actually going on…

(And what I was left to clean up once the family had disembarked from the table)


See what I’m saying??

Another example then.

2) Kids.

This is what I posted to Instagram…


This is what normally goes on…

(Yes, one of them is watching the annoying Kinder Egg opening lady…)


Another example…

3) Baking.

This is what I posted to Instagram…


This is what the rest of the kitchen looked like…


And finally…

4) Me.

This is what I posted to Instagram…


And this is what I normally look like…


…only joking!! Hahaha!! My boobs aren’t quite that hairy, here’s me after a school run in ‘typical’ British Weather…

So there you have it.

The good and the bad, the true and the false, the ideal versus the reality. With the smokescreen removed, it’s not actually all that polished and ‘hunky-dory’ is it….

In defence of Instagram, I quite like escaping to my little online ‘idyll’ – where all the lovely bits of life are (Mostly when the kids are calling each other “wee wee poo poo bogey face” or I’m waiting for the toddler to get to sleep whilst my Gin is downstairs and it takes me away to my ‘happy place’.

You can find me in my pretend life here:

Gemma’s Happy Place…
Do find me on there if you too have a ¬†‘happy place’ you escape to…

(before kids, my happy place was called the pub. How things have changed…)

Mummascribbles