As I sit here and type the sun is beaming through our lounge window pouring light over the wild and rugged terrain of Northam Burrows in beautiful North Devon where I live. I am very blessed – it’s almost picture perfect…so perfect I am tempted to actually take a picture…and share it – yet there’s a problem…
In order to capture this stunning view to ‘share’ with my Instagram friends I’d need to re-set the scene, as I’d hate other people to catch a glimpse of the soggy muslin square strewn over the back of the sofa that’s now covering the wet patch where my son decided to projectile vomit over earlier this afternoon. Nor would I like to share the mass of tabby cat hairs stuck to the bottom of our white curtains – and all this is irrespective of the fact that the view is actually muffled by gas caught between our double glazing, so I’d have to hang out of the open window to really get a good shot!
What I’m getting at is that life isn’t always what it seems. I’ve become a little addicted to Instagram of late and it’s easy to see why – a wonderful way to connect with friends, colleagues and like minded people, it offers us all the opportunity to get creative with our camera phones and produce beautiful images of day-to-day ‘goings-ons’ that can be treasured forever – but in the last couple of days I’ve also noticed a downside to this fabulous app; seeing life through a soft-filter lens can sometimes make you feel down-right crap.
My days at the moment consist of nappy changes and feeds. My baby boy, although gorgeous, isn’t always as cute as his Instagram persona, in fact he’s down right devilish at times. I make no attempt to feature in photo’s at present, as I’m sporting nearly two inches of mousy blonde roots, my hands are dry, nails chipped and my favourite item of clothing is an M&S night shirt that I pass off as day wear as it drowns the extra stone and a half of post-baby weight I’m carrying. Our house looks like a bomb site – we’ve yet to fully unpack after moving here just ahead of Dylan’s birth, there’s baby stuff everywhere and I’ve an ironing pile the size of Everest…it’s all far from picture perfect – so when I see images of designer shoes adorning perfectly pedicured feet and home interiors that would give the finest boutique hotels a run for their money I sometimes want to throw my phone across my not-so-tidy front room.
I appreciate that the creative types I know, like, respect and follow all have an eye for the finer details and that the reason why I connect with them is in part because I’m in awe of their talents; so I expect and want them to take pictures of things that inspire – but what I’m getting at is that sometimes - for your own sanity, perhaps it’s worth stepping away from it all, instead taking stock of and enjoying the delightfully messy everyday happenings of ‘real life’.
I know I need to, because my marriage, family, life in general won’t stand up to my own scrutiny if I continue to compare it to those I gaze at through a rose-tinted lens. I am otherwise in danger of missing the fleeting moments that might happen whilst I reach for my camera in order to take a shot of a gummy smile from our baby boy, or a funny turn from our cats…or the warm glow of dawn light that fills our bedroom and lights up the dust fairies dancing over our bed…no filter can beat that kind of wonderment or beauty.
Sarah, Boho Bride xx