Digital Masks Off
Hey. Something inside me, and I'm sharing it. I'm just cruising for clarity with a therapist. Hey. Let me roll down the window.
Speaker 1:Hosted by Francisco Castillo. Hey. Yeah. You deserve to be heard. Explore what you feel.
Speaker 1:No stress or concern. Hey. Something beside me, and I'm sharing it. I'm just cruising for clarity with a therapist. Let's go.
Speaker 2:Welcome back to Cruising For Clarity, where today we're diving headfirst into a topic that we're all embarrassingly good at, yet nobody talks about emotional catfishing. You know exactly what I mean. Right? Emotional catfishing, it's not quite lying, but it's not exactly honesty either. It's that perfectly crafted version of ourselves we show online, the smiling, filtered, brunch loving, adventure seeking, alter ego who mysteriously vanishes the moment the camera stops rolling.
Speaker 2:This digital doppelganger seems to have their life so incredibly together. They always eat beautifully plated breakfasts, enjoy flawless sunrises, have profound quotes ready at all times, and somehow manage to be constantly blessed. Even if the offline version just spilled coffee all over their laptop before their 9AM Zoom call. Yeah. That digital avatar.
Speaker 2:Let's be real, though. There's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to put our best selves forward. Everyone wants to feel good, look good, and get those sweet dopamine hits from a few likes or comments. But here's the kicker. When our online personas become so polished, so carefully curated that we barely recognize ourselves, we start to feel a disconnect.
Speaker 2:Suddenly, we're not just impressing our followers. We're actively tricking ourselves. It's emotional catfishing at its finest, and it's exhausting. So today, let's unpack this phenomenon. Why do we all find ourselves emotionally catfishing now and again?
Speaker 2:What does it really cost us beyond the time spent selecting the perfect filter or caption? And how can we ease back into being a little more real, a bit more authentic without completely deleting our socials and going off the grid? Buckle up. Grab your iced coffee, even if the ice melted ten minutes ago, and let's cruise into clarity about who we really are behind our screens. You know exactly what I'm talking about.
Speaker 2:Right? It's Friday night. You're at home wearing the same sweatpants for the third day straight, scrolling through Instagram or TikTok. You pause on someone's post, an aesthetic shot of a perfect latte, a pristine desk with books casually open to precisely the right pages, or someone casually lounging by the pool with a caption that somehow sounds deeper than a fortune cookie. And for just a second, you think, wow.
Speaker 2:Why is everyone's life so together except mine? But here's a plot twist. Their life probably isn't together either. Think many Netflix documentaries produced, directed, and starring us. We've become incredibly skilled cinematographers of our own daily lives, carefully selecting only the most flattering angles, editing out the bloopers, and adding emotional soundtracks to our daily routines.
Speaker 2:You know how it goes. Take 50 selfies, choose one, spend twenty minutes debating the right filter and the perfect inspirational quote. Bonus points if it's from someone you've never actually read. And finally post it as though you spontaneously woke up like that. But nobody spontaneously wakes up that way.
Speaker 2:Ever. So why do we go through all this trouble? Psychologists have a term for it. They call it selective self presentation. Fancy phrase, I know, but it basically just means we strategically choose which aspects of ourselves we share online, carefully editing out the bits we think are messy or unimpressive.
Speaker 2:You're probably nodding along right now thinking about the stack of dirty dishes conveniently cropped out of your latest Instagram cooking masterpiece. Yeah. Same here. But let's take a step back and ask why. Why do we turn ourselves into these mini actors, directors, and screenwriters of our own digital narratives?
Speaker 2:Is it because we're all secretly narcissists obsessed with looking good? Nah. Not quite. It's it's simpler and honestly way more human than that. Here's the deal.
Speaker 2:At our core, every one of us crave validation. It feels amazing to have someone double tap a picture or comment about how incredible our lives look. Even if behind the scenes, our burnt toast is smoking in the toaster or we just spilled coffee on our favorite shirt again. Beyond validation, there's the fundamental desire to feel like we belong, like we're part of a community. Even if that community is mostly digital, we wanna be part of something, anything, that makes us feel seen important.
Speaker 2:We also wanna reassure ourselves and everyone else that we're winning at this thing called life, even if the scoreboard sometimes feels wildly inaccurate. And, hey, there's nothing inherently wrong with wanting a bit of approval or validation. It's part of our wiring. Tricky part is when we start to confuse this perfectly filtered highlight reel with real life. Because the gap between online you and real life you, that gap can get pretty wide and pretty exhausting real quick.
Speaker 2:So let's pause for a quick moment of honesty. Are you filtering your photos, your feelings, or both? Because, truthfully, when you start filtering your feelings, that's when emotional catfishing shifts from harmless fun to real emotional fatigue. It's not just about having a pretty Instagram grid anymore. Now it's about maintaining an impossible standard, a performance that's hard to keep up without losing touch with who you really are behind the screen.
Speaker 2:And that's exactly what we're exploring today. Why does the Internet turn us all into actors, directors, and curators of our own overly produced Netflix specials? And what's the emotional price we pay when the credits finally roll? Okay. Let's get real about something else, the sneaky cost of emotional catfishing.
Speaker 2:Sure. Filtering your photos and carefully curating your captions feels harmless enough at first. Right? It's like holding in your stomach during a group photo. Doable for about fifteen seconds tops.
Speaker 2:But imagine having to hold your breath and suck it in all day, every day. Sounds miserable. Right? Wow. That's exactly what maintaining your flawless online persona starts to feel like after a while.
Speaker 2:Exhausting, draining, and honestly kind of suffocating. See, behind every perfectly composed brunch photo or idyllic beach snap, there's often a hidden story, one that usually involves anxiety, self doubt, or simply feeling like you're not quite good enough to share the real unfiltered version of your day. This constant pretending not only tires you out but also quietly chips away at your confidence. Every filtered selfie or polished post reinforces this tiny little voice in your head that whispers, hey, the real you isn't quite good enough. Stick to the script.
Speaker 2:And guess what? Research backs this up, but with a twist that might surprise you. Recent studies discovered that people who act authentically online, those who don't overthink every post, caption, or story, they actually feel better mentally. Go figure. Right?
Speaker 2:Less pretending, less anxiety, more chill vibes. Turns out honesty really is the best policy even digitally. Now you might be thinking, okay. But everyone does it. How bad can it really be?
Speaker 2:Well, picture this scenario. You're scrolling through your feed, and someone you follow online, someone who appears constantly energized, always positive, always crushing goals, finally meets up with you in real life. And you realize almost immediately that they don't actually radiate positivity twenty four seven. In fact, they're just normal, maybe a little awkward, maybe even a bit shy. No halos of sunshine or perpetual glow of enlightenment.
Speaker 2:Shocker. Right? Let's face it. We're all guilty of expecting people to match their online highlight reel in real life. But deep down, we know better because we also know the stress we feel when we try to maintain that impossible standard ourselves.
Speaker 2:When we hide our messiness, our quirks, our rough edges, the things that make us genuinely human, we don't just fool our followers. We fool ourselves too. And here's the real twist. Emotional catfishing can actually make us feel more isolated and lonely even as we get likes and comments from hundreds or even thousands of people. It can start to feel like no one really knows us, the real us, and if they did, maybe they wouldn't like what they saw.
Speaker 2:This quiet fear of being discovered can breed impostor syndrome. That nagging feeling you're somehow faking your way through life, just waiting for everyone else to realize you're not as great, happy, or successful as your profile suggests. So let's pause right here and think about it. If emotional catfishing costs us authenticity, drains our emotional battery, and leaves us feeling disconnected, what exactly are we gaining? A few extra likes, some fleeting validation.
Speaker 2:Is it really worth the emotional toll? Maybe. Just maybe embracing a bit more honesty, messiness, and genuine imperfection online isn't just healthier. It's also more freeing and fun. It might even allow us to truly connect with others on a deeper, more meaningful level.
Speaker 2:Think of it like this. People don't bond over how effortlessly perfect we seem. They bond over our shared struggles, silly mistakes, and awkward moments. That's real, and real always beats perfect. So next time you're attempted to smooth over reality with another filter, ask yourself, what's the cost?
Speaker 2:Is it worth it? Alright. Now that we've established that we're all, at least occasionally, guilty of emotional catfishing. Let's have a bit of fun and call ourselves out, shall we? Let's break down some of the most common types of emotional catfish swimming around our digital oceans.
Speaker 2:Listen closely. Chances are you'll recognize yourself or someone you know. And, hey, no judgment. I promise. First up, we have the Zen master.
Speaker 2:You know exactly who this is. Maybe it's even you. This is the friend who posts daily affirmations about peace, balance, and mindfulness. Their captions are full of things like breathe deeply, choose joy, or just let it flow. It sounds beautiful and soothing.
Speaker 2:Right? But catch them in real life when the WiFi stutters during their meditation playlist or their Instagram upload stalls mid post, and suddenly all that calm evaporates faster than your patience during rush hour traffic. Zen master, meet your kryptonite. Slow Wi Fi. Next, let's chat about the digital nomad.
Speaker 2:This is the person whose profile is an endless gallery of dreamy travel pics. Fresh coconut water in Bali, sunsets in Santorini, street food in Tokyo. Every post screams adventure and freedom. Meanwhile, reality check. Their passport says their most frequent destination is actually sofa living room.
Speaker 2:Look, I'm not judging. I appreciate a good imagination and respect your mastery of strategic throwback Thursdays. But let's be real. Pretending you're constantly traveling can get exhausting, especially when the farthest you've gone lately is from your bedroom to the fridge. Then we've got the always grateful hustler.
Speaker 2:You know the type. They've got a packed schedule, an impeccable planner, and their posts are peppered with hashtags like hashtag rise and grind, hashtag blessed, and hashtag always winning. They're eternally grateful and constantly motivated, or at least that's what they want you to think. But behind that nonstop hustle and gratitude, they're secretly one email away from burnout, clinging desperately to their fourth cup of coffee by noon. Ironically, the gratitude they show online often doesn't leave much room for vulnerability offline, making it even harder for them to admit they're actually struggling.
Speaker 2:Here's why these funny but true examples matter. It's not just about calling out our friends or ourselves. Although, let's face it. That's pretty fun. Psychologists actually have a really cool concept for what happens when our digital personas start influencing our real life feelings and behavior.
Speaker 2:They call it the proteus effect. In simple terms, the proteus effect means your online avatar or digital persona starts to affect how you feel and act in your actual everyday life. So if you're always presenting yourself as perfectly zen online, the stress of maintaining that illusion might ironically make you feel way more anxious offline. If you're constantly posting about your jet setting adventures, sitting at home on your couch can suddenly feel painfully inadequate. And for our always grateful hustler friends, projecting constant positivity and relentless motivation online might actually intensify the feelings of exhaustion, guilt, or inadequacy when they inevitably have off days.
Speaker 2:The point is the more we exaggerate our emotional realities online, the more pressure we create to keep up these impossible standards in real life, and the greater the gap grows between our authentic selves and our digital avatars. Eventually, we risk feeling disconnected from who we genuinely are, caught in an endless loop of pretending. So quick gut check. Did you recognize yourself in any of these categories? Maybe you're a zen master trying to hold on to your chill when life gets chaotic.
Speaker 2:Maybe you're the digital nomad yearning for real adventures, or maybe you're the always grateful hustler secretly begging for permission to slow down. Remember, it's perfectly okay to have a little fun and share your best moments online, but maybe it's time to occasionally let your followers and yourself see behind the curtain too. After all, authenticity isn't just healthier. It's genuinely more freeing. And who knows?
Speaker 2:Your followers might even thank you for it. Alright. Enough guilt tripping. We've had our fun calling ourselves out. But let's not just leave it there.
Speaker 2:Let's talk solutions. Because, honestly, nobody expects you to delete Instagram or banish yourself to a Wi Fi free island to achieve digital authenticity. Although, let's be real. Sometimes that sounds tempting. Instead, let's explore some chill, practical ways to ease yourself into being a bit more authentic online.
Speaker 2:No drastic measures needed, just small shifts that feel good, natural, and maybe even freeing. Tip one, mindful posting aka think twice. Post once. Before you hit post, pause for a quick mindfulness check-in. And no, I don't mean lighting incense and meditating for twenty minutes, unless that's your thing, in which case, carry on.
Speaker 2:It's simpler than that. Just take a second to honestly ask yourself, is this actually me right now, or is this who I think other people want me to be? Research backs this up, by the way. Mindfulness helps us align our online persona with who we genuinely are, reducing anxiety and increasing overall well-being. Less anxiety, more authenticity.
Speaker 2:Sounds like a win win. Right? Tip two, embrace the messy middle, aka let people see your real life bloopers. Life is messy, really, really messy. And ironically, your friends probably love seeing your real life bloopers way more than your carefully crafted highlight reels.
Speaker 2:So here's your permission slip. Go ahead and share something imperfect once in a while. Maybe it's your chaotic workspace, a dinner that ended in disaster, or even just your messy bun after a long day. Trust me. Your followers will breathe collective sigh of relief.
Speaker 2:Why? Because now they know they're not the only ones whose lives aren't straight out of Pinterest. Embracing your messy middle creates more genuine connections, letting everyone feel seen, understood, and less alone in their everyday struggles. Tip three, embrace humor and honesty, aka laugh at yourself. I definitely do.
Speaker 2:This might be my favorite tip of all, probably because I do it constantly. Anyone who knows me knows I love laughing at myself. Life is just way more enjoyable when we don't take our, ourselves too seriously. Alright. True story.
Speaker 2:So not too long ago, I was just lying on my bed scrolling through my phone, legs crossed, totally zoned out. Eventually, I decided it's time to get up, but apparently my leg had other plans. It had fallen completely asleep without even giving me a heads up. So here I go confidently planting my foot on the floor and bam. I instantly collapsed face first.
Speaker 2:No warning. No graceful recovery. Just me on the ground feeling like someone invisibly tackled me out of nowhere. For a split second, just laid there stunned, grateful my life didn't flash before my eyes because that would mean it was way more serious than just my leg deciding to take an unplanned nap. After realizing I was okay and nobody had witnessed my epic fail, all I could do was laugh at myself.
Speaker 2:Moments like these remind me life is way better when we stop pretending to have it all together and just embrace our hilarious awkward humanity. Humanity. That's exactly the kind of moment I'm talking about sharing. Authentic, funny, totally unfiltered. And guess what?
Speaker 2:People don't connect over polished perfection. They connect over shared laughter, common mishaps, and refreshingly human moments. You start embracing these goofy, imperfect parts of life, you reclaim your freedom to simply be yourself. And let's face it, laughing about our imperfections beats quietly stressing over them every time. Bottom line, mindfulness, messiness, and humor.
Speaker 2:These three ingredients can help you slowly shift your digital presence towards something more authentic, enjoyable, and emotionally sustainable. Remember, authenticity online doesn't mean you reveal every detail of your life. It just means you let your genuine self shine through more often. So go ahead. Loosen up a bit.
Speaker 2:Post something real, messy, or silly, and watch how good it feels. Alright. It's your turn now. We've laughed, reflected, and called ourselves out. So let's put all of this into practice.
Speaker 2:I'm officially challenging you to take a step towards authenticity this week. And don't worry. This isn't anything drastic. No confessions of your deepest secrets unless you really want to. Just a small, manageable, and fun step.
Speaker 2:So your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to post one honest, unfiltered snapshot of your your real life this week. It could be literally anything. Maybe it's your workspace with a coffee cup from three days ago still sitting on the corner. Maybe it's the aftermath of that ambitious dinner recipe that ended up looking more like abstract art than something edible. Maybe it's just you in full couch potato mode surrounded by snack wrappers, remote controls, and evidence of your latest Netflix marathon.
Speaker 2:Letting people see your unpolished self might just feel pretty damn good. Authenticity is freeing. It lets us breathe easier, relax a bit, and genuinely connect with others. Give it a shot. I I promise it's easier and way more fun than holding in your emotional stomach all the time.
Speaker 2:That's our episode for today. Remember, emotional catfishing might give quick validation, validation, but authenticity, it gives something better, genuine connection. And as always, keep cruising toward clarity.