living in a world that is chronically online

and being vulnerable

As someone who calls herself a “content creator,” part of my job requires me to share my life online with random strangers, and I won’t lie; I am a very private person. I share parts of my life that I think are fun and, at times, boring. I never really know how much I can share online, though.

In a world where everyone is constantly scrolling, tapping, and commenting, the line between personal and public life blurs more each day. Every post, every story invites scrutiny and judgment—often from people who don’t know the full story. The pressure to present a curated life can be overwhelming, leading many of us to wonder: How much is too much?

Living in a chronically online world means being hyper-connected yet often feeling isolated. The dopamine hit from likes and shares can be intoxicating, but it comes with a price. As we open up our lives to a broader audience, we’re also exposing ourselves to criticism and judgment. The freedom to express ourselves can clash with the anxiety of how we’ll be perceived. A seemingly innocuous post about a mundane day can spiral into a comment section filled with unsolicited opinions, making us second-guess our choices and authenticity.

It’s tough sometimes, feeling that tug-of-war between wanting to share and wanting to protect my privacy. I often find myself overthinking, wondering if my post is interesting enough or if I’m sharing too much. It can feel like a performance, and that’s exhausting. Instead of enjoying the moment, I might be more focused on capturing the perfect shot or writing the right caption, which can completely take me out of the experience.

And let’s not even get started on algorithms. They seem to have a mind of their own, deciding which of my posts get seen and which sink into oblivion. One day, I might share something that really resonates, and the next, crickets. It’s a rollercoaster of emotions that can make me question my worth as a creator. Should I post what I truly love, or should I chase the trends? It can be a bit of a struggle.

But then there’s the beauty of connection. Social media has this amazing ability to bring people together, even when it feels chaotic. When I share something honest or vulnerable, I often hear back from others who feel the same way. It’s comforting to know I’m not alone in my experiences, and that mutual understanding can create a strong sense of community. There’s something incredibly rewarding about finding others who resonate with my stories, no matter how trivial they might seem.

And maybe that’s the entire reason why I’ve stuck to the book/reader niche. I met my best friend through this space, and four years in, she’s still the best part about this community. I’ve had the chance to talk to so many of you, and I’ve discovered dozens of amazing books thanks to your recommendations. I feel that bookstagram is the least problematic niche on Instagram. While I do face my fair share of bullying and harassment, it’s way less than in many other spaces.

As someone who loves it when strangers are vulnerable because it simply makes me feel less miserable about myself, I struggle with sharing my own failures. There’s always this nagging fear that I might disappoint you or that I’m not living up to the ideal I’ve inadvertently created. Sometimes I forget that in sharing my successes, I might be painting an unrealistic picture for those who follow me. I think I owe you my failures because I want you to know that I am merely human. I work late, I sometimes have no clue what I’m doing, and I mess up—a lot. Just because you can’t see the chaotic parts of my life doesn’t mean I’m perfect.

Last week, a girl left a comment under my post that said, “I want to be like you when I grow up; your life seems cool.” While I appreciated the sentiment, it also struck a nerve. It made me realize that I owe it to you to show the whole picture—not just the glossy highlights. I want to be honest about the struggles, the doubts, and the messy realities that don’t always make the cut in my curated feed.

But then comes the fear of judgment. What if I disappoint that girl who was looking up to me? What if I fail and fail and burn out in the process? What if I lose myself while trying to be vulnerable? It’s a delicate balance. I often wonder how much of myself I can share without feeling exposed or judged. The thought of letting someone down feels heavy, but at the same time, I want to be real with you. I want to show that life isn’t always a highlight reel—it’s messy, complicated, and full of surprises.

So, as I navigate this landscape, I’m trying to remind myself that being authentic is more important than being perfect. It’s okay to admit that I struggle, that I’m a work in progress. If I can create a space where we can all feel comfortable sharing our imperfections, then maybe it’ll lighten the load a little. After all, we’re all in this together, learning and growing one post at a time.

And maybe that is why I want to write about it rather than talk about it. Writing for some reason feels safer, no one is going to read my rant unless they are genuinely interested. I hope I can turn this space into our safe space, a spot where we can share our highs and lows, where I can be vulnerable, and where I can give you some big sister advice. To make a place where I belong, where I can find pieces of myself when I am lost because I do get lost a little too often.

I hope that by sharing both the highs and lows, I can encourage others to do the same. Let’s lift each other up, embrace our flaws, and remember that it’s perfectly fine to be a bit messy. We’re all just figuring it out, and that’s what makes this journey so beautifully human.

Lots of love,

Kriti