Under Pressure (do do do do do do do do)

Boy, are we ever good at overloading ourselves with things that don’t matter.

This week I’ve physically felt as though someone had set up camp on my chest, crushing me a little more every day.  I spent Wednesday pissed off about comments back from a professor I thought were unfair, and pissed off at myself for letting it get to me so much.  I’m an A friggin student, why do you care how I dot my I’s?  That night after buying a bunch of items for the wedding, I then proceeded to anxiously wonder if I chose the right colors from 11pm-1am in the morning.

Yesterday after having a complete meltdown on my fiancé and losing control of my emotions, I came to a startling conclusion.  Maybe everyone else is not in fact the problem.  Perhaps this is a Leah manufactured issue.

*Gasp, she’s about to admit she’s not perfect for the whole world to hear.

Why do I put this pressure on myself that anything less than an A in school isn’t good enough?  I’m back in university for 1 year, gain some A’s along the way, and somehow set up this likely unsustainable expectation.  What’s the big deal?  Will the world come to a halt if I walk away from a class I’ll likely never use anything from ever again with a B? No.  I don’t think there’s a problem with being proud of my achievements and wanting to continue to do well, but when I’m losing sleep over my standards- something needs to change.

And as my amazing sister pointed out- will people pick our wedding apart over centerpieces?  Not likely.  (Well, quite likely actually, but the question is- WHY do I care?).  Will they take note of how happy we are and the love surrounding everyone during our beautiful rooftop ceremony?  Hopefully.  Why am I so concerned with the material things when there’s so many better aspects to a wedding?

And finally- for the love of god Leah, why do you care what people think about you so much?

This question lead me to a startling conclusion about myself and social media, and the love/hate relationship that’s been created between the two.  Writing this blog has been a joy for the last 2 years.  It’s given me a safe place to express myself and attempt to help others.  However, recently my FitMeBaby Instagram has become my sidekick.  I interrupt conversations to take pictures of food, I ask Eric to take endless amounts of pictures to use for #transformationtuesday, I watch eagerly as the “likes” and “follows” add up.


Why do I care how many people are reading my posts if I do this for me?  No, I don’t get paid.  I don’t do advertising, I don’t promote clothing.  I do me, and apparently in the process, I hope that people like what’s “just me”.

Why does it feel like a lot of me is gratified by others approval?  When did this happen?

The articles are endless.  People put down my generation because of this very thing.  Us millennials, we’re self-absorbed and entitled.  All we do all day is lay around all day on our phones and take selfies.  We’re not hard workers, we were given gold stars for simply showing up, rather than working hard to deserve them.  I don’t agree with the bulk of it, but the studies on selfies, the body image harm social media is causing, the craving of attention, the need to be accepted by others- they’re all out there, and a lot of them are right.

That being said, I do believe there’s a lot of positive and healthiness that can come out of social media.  I know viewers appreciate seeing images that promote healthy lifestyles and reaching for the stars, but has it gotten to an unhealthy point for the poster?

I don’t have the answer to that.  But it has got me thinking, and compelled me enough to reconsider my use of social media.  Perhaps I need to start worrying (a lot) less about what the world thinks about me, and my writing skills, or what my (our… sorry, our) wedding will look like- and learn to think for myself.  Maybe I need to take some of the pressure off, and learn to let go.

“If you treat every situation as a life and death matter, you’ll die a lot of times.”
– Dean Smith

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