the words we hear.
c/o: Sabrina Kellerman Photography I’m guilty of painting pretty pictures. Pictures of how I want my life to be viewed. I want crisp edges and smooth lines, not a defect in sight. A clear and in-focus image that everyone can praise, and my mother can be proud of. A picture that can garner Facebook “likes” and Twitter “retweets”; an image that attains the coveted “Life Goals” hash tag. Because who doesn’t want a life that can be applauded and placed front-and-center on the mantel of self-esteem? As a side effect of this deceptive exhibit of life, is the mass of people that assume they know exactly how you feel simply based off the carefully edited Instagram post. They surmise that the smile means happiness and contentment, and the success equals satisfaction and self-fulfillment. They believe the best, because the best is all that they can see. They view the performance from the front row, completely oblivious to the stress backstage behind the curtain. My frustration ...