Making My Life Pinterest (Even If It’s a Lie)
An experiment in curated reality—and what it reveals about our own lives.
I had an idea: what if I started taking pictures all day—photos that made it seem like I was living my absolute dream life—and posted them out of context?
I wanted to test something. Could I start feeling like I was living my dream just by pretending I already was? Could curating a “Pinterest life” (without actually changing) shift the way I saw myself?
A while ago I wanted to change my personal view on Pinterest. I often scroll forever, wishing my life looked like my “dreams” board. I would feel envious of all the “cool girls” on my feed and the beautiful perfect images. I realized I am living a dream, but I see every aspect of my life, not just the aesthetic scenes. I decided to add all my photos from throughout the past 5 years where I have accomplished my dreams, edited them to perfection, and organized them to achieve the perfect narrative:
See if you saw that without the context, you would be jealous of me wouldn’t you.
Your life is like a movie, bloopers, B-roll, and all. But your social media is just the opening night at the theater. Realizing this has made me feel peace. The way I view my social media has completely shifted and I want to influence you to do the same.
What is being Cool? Why do we care?
Let’s be honest: no one is actually as cool as they look online. Not the influencers. Not the models. Not even that one effortlessly cool girl on your Pinterest board. You’re only seeing what people choose to show you.
The truth? You’re cool too. You’re just not curating it like they are.
I was originally inspired to write about this concept from a video on YouTube:
“Be the Coolest Person You Know”
It’s about being your own muse and romanticizing your life for you, not for the feed. Creator findlepop talks about being the “coolest person” they know because they do all the things that they view as cool. This inspired me to not only pick back up some old hobbies, but to document these things. We often idolize people for living our dreams or doing interesting stuff.
I personally have scrolled through mutuals on Instagram with envy of their vacation photos, or even cool shots playing guitars with their friends. Findlepop also points out that everyone has a different definition of cool. Maybe yours is girls at clubs in the city. Maybe mine is surfers who live at the beach all day. The point is: no one else can define “cool” for you. The point is, you are the only one stopping yourself from being your version of cool.
I am tired of standing in my own way, so Allana and I went out and made our own vlog documenting all our cool stuff.
The Dangerous Line
But here's the danger: when we start recreating Pinterest or celebrity photos, we cross into comparison. And it’s not a fair fight.
The model you’re emulating has a team. A stylist. Lighting. Filters. A camera roll full of bad photos you’ll never see. You're comparing your real life to someone's highlight reel, which is always a losing game. Ultimately, you are yourself. Even if you take a picture in the exact same place, do your hair and makeup the same, and wear the same outfit as Megan Fox, you are not her, you’re not supposed to be.
We kept running into this issue of wanting to recreate the girls on pinterest and then looking at the final product being shocked we didn’t magically transform into another person. We’d pose like the Pinterest girls, but when we looked at the final product, we were shocked we didn’t magically transform into someone else. There was this weird disappointment like, “Wait… why do I still look like me?”
We weren’t meant to look at ourselves this much. And yet, here I am, with five mirrors in my room, sending Snapchat selfies as my main form of communication. No wonder we feel like we’re falling short. We’re constantly analyzing ourselves from every angle, picking apart flaws no one else even notices.
A Social Media Field Test
So Allana and I spent the day doing “cool” things just for the photos and because we knew it would be fun. This is our investigative journalism, to prove to you all you can be cool, social media is fake, and no one is perfect.
Here’s what we learned:
1. Social media is a narrative.
2. Everyone edits the story.
3. You’re not broken because your real life doesn’t feel cinematic all the time. No one’s does.
Even on our “cool day,” we had quiet moments, body image insecurities, and real inconveniences. But you’d never know that from the photos. We put our best foot forward (like everyone else does.)
We also in the process, ended up having the best day ever. We performatively did “cool things” for a picture but loved doing all of these things. Sure, we did all these things for the camera, but it didn’t feel fake. We proved to ourselves that fun doesn’t have to be pretentious: Even if you don’t own a record player, you can go into a record store and have a fun time with your best friend. And you shouldn’t let stigma, or gatekeepers stop you from fun, because at the end of the day, it’s all just for fun.
The Part Where I Get Real
At some point during this whole “Pinterest life” experiment, I realized I was kind of lying to myself and kind of healing something at the same time.
There’s this weird contradiction I live in daily: I don’t want to be perceived, but I crave being seen. I want to show people who I am, but only the version that feels filtered, effortless, unbothered. I spend hours crafting a 10-second story that disappears in 24 hours. And for what? At the end of the day, I never care how many likes or views it got. I put things in my highlights knowing I am probably the only person looking back at it. I love reminiscing on my life and even I, the creator, forget all of the stress that came from posting. All I see is a beautiful photo, and memories come flooding in.
Sometimes, I catch myself posing in front of the mirror, adjusting my shirt, fixing my hair, waiting for a moment that feels “candid.” And I realize: I don’t even know who I am when I’m not watching myself anymore. I’ve had days where I didn’t want to take a single picture because I didn’t feel pretty enough, or happy enough, or cool enough. But then I’d go scroll through my Instagram and realize, wow, I’ve convinced everyone (including myself) that I’m thriving. That I’m the kind of girl who has it together. That I wake up like this. That I am cool. (Even though I think I am a weird loser most days.) I’ll rot in bed all week and then go out on day, put a face on and craft the perfect post. No one will even know the toll this took on me.
Behind that cute outfit I posted last week, I had a panic attack that morning. Behind the aesthetic coffee shop pic, I felt super alone, and just wanted someone to text me first. Behind the effortless, perfect, selfie, is 50 others I deleted. I still post. I still curate. And I wonder if we all know it’s fake and keep doing it anyway, because in some strange way, it gives us power. We don’t stop and think about it while doom scrolling through models, but for some reason hold ourselves to impossible standards.
Maybe it’s not about faking a life you don’t have. Maybe it’s about trying to find the version of yourself you want to grow into and documenting it along the way. I changed my attitude to crafting an online memory box. An Instagram for a scrapbook, a blog/podcast for a journal, and a Pinterest to display it all. Posting on social media has also given me a sense of purpose. I genuinely have fun doing it. Taking pictures. Editing them. Crafting and posting my final draft. All feels like I’m clocking into a job I LOVE. The only issue is when you become too sucked into your own image. It seems impossible for someone to be so self-absorbed and active on social media, while also being an insecure anxious wreck, but somehow I am.
I’m going to keep making my life into my dream Pinterest board. Not to deceive anyone, but to remind myself that I am cool, even when I don’t feel like it. Even when I’m crying in my car, or eating pizza in bed at 2am.
Because I’m the main character of my own story.
No one is actually effortless. The only thing separating “them” from “you” is the curation.
So this blog is part experiment, part rebellion. A way to take control of the narrative—not to fake it, but to reflect on how much of what we see is staged, and how we might start living our lives for us instead.
Because maybe the secret to a dream life…
…is just pretending until you accidentally start living it.
