Skip to Content

What we lose when we “romanticize our life”

What we lose when we "romanticize our life"

Recently, I’ve found myself scrolling through Instagram Reels featuring candle-lit bedrooms and cute coffee shops, meticulously and perfectly edited to the soft tunes of indie music. Each video offers a brief, beautiful glimpse into what social media calls “romanticizing your life.”

 

For a moment, I was captivated. It felt like an invitation to find joy in the mundane—to appreciate the simple events that make up our day. That morning coffee. An afternoon walk. The evening wind down. Yet, my excitement for the trend was short-lived. To me, the very “small things” we were meant to celebrate have not only lost their meaning, but have changed who we are.

 

The initial appeal of the trend, which started amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, seemed reasonable. In the trenches of social isolation, we were encouraged to shift our focus to, say, a springtime venture into nature or the warmth of a home-cooked meal. The intent: to rekindle the positivity that had escaped us and channel our so-called “main character energy.” “You are the star in your own movie that is the story of your life,” goes the mantra.

 

Soon, however, social media began elevating the banal moments to absurd aestheticism. Matcha lattes photographed from every angle imaginable (also, when did we stop drinking regular coffee?); documentaries of whimsical libraries; meticulous skin care routines receiving narrative arcs; Sunday meal-prep turning into nutrition class. These romanticized scenes, albeit beautiful, are no longer about finding joy as much as they are about buying a lifestyle. It’s not enough to enjoy a simple cup of coffee, but to enjoy it out of an elegant glass mug is the implied message. Scented candles, all-natural bath salts or extravagant drinks—they are no more than commercialized props held to unrealistic beauty standards in a highly curated performance. It seems the small rituals are not so small after all. They are actually a big deal.

 

Beyond vanishing into a wave of consumerism, it seems the (over-)glorification of everyday life is out-of-touch with reality. Perhaps the idea of distracting ourselves from the bigger issues out of our control has been taken too far. Amidst the current serious political, societal and environmental concerns, snapshots of an aesthetic water bottle filling at the sink or neatly organized wardrobes appear ridiculous. There is something to be said about that fine line: not taking common everyday experiences for granted, but not artificially inflating their importance, so much so, that we lose sight of the bigger picture. When we started seeking ways to romanticize our lives, the intention was to worship the parts immediately around us in order to regain appreciation for the real world that lay beyond—not to disconnect from it.

 

Problematic, too, are those promoting and living the romanticized lifestyle. One Instagram feed mirrors the next—the same shots of sunrise walks followed by ocean dips, the same grocery hauls, the same lazy afternoon aesthetic, the same life. Influencers have defined their personalities as a collection of aesthetically pleasing habits, and their facelessness is a testament to their unwavering conformity to the trend. It is unfortunate, in a world so diverse, complex and exciting, that their spontaneity and individuality has seemed to vanish entirely.

Frankly, there is nothing wrong with taking a step back to honor the rituals of our daily lives that usually go unnoticed. In fact, there is a good intention behind it. Still, the warning should not go unstated that it becomes dangerous when we hyperfixate on these things for that all too familiar reason—because everyone is doing it. Your life is not measured in terms of perfectly curated snapshots or expensive accessories. It is defined by your passions, work, relationships and those authentic, spontaneous events. There is no need for a script to how we live. After all, we are not characters in a movie—this is real life.