A couple of years ago, you would have never seen me share a photo that wasn’t perfectly staged. You wouldn’t have heard me talk about anything that wasn’t positive or polished. I never spoke about my struggles—I hid them, and I hid them well.
My social media was full of happy captions and beautifully curated photos, most of them carefully set up. What you didn’t see on the other side of the camera was the chaos I had pushed out of frame just to capture a quick shot. You didn’t see me pacing around our house for ten minutes, searching for the perfect light. You didn’t see me take dozens of photos, only to choose one after overanalyzing every detail. You didn’t see me tear it all down and start over because nothing felt “right.” You didn’t see me forcing a smile.
And you didn’t see me hurting.
A couple of years ago, I almost took my own life.
If my sister hadn’t called me right before, I wouldn’t be here today. She had no idea how I was feeling until I completely broke down on the phone. She didn’t know I had just written a goodbye letter to my family. No one knew I was suffering.
I shared only the good parts of my life. I highlighted the positives and kept everything else locked inside. I held in so much that not even my own family knew the truth. They thought my life was beautiful and going perfectly.
When I finally started opening up to the people closest to me, I kept hearing the same words: “I had no idea.”
They truly didn’t know how deeply I was hurting because I had made everything look so good. No one asked if I was okay or if I needed someone to talk to—not because they didn’t care, but because I gave them no reason to worry. I made it look like everything was amazing.
Once I began sharing my struggles with depression, something unexpected happened. I discovered that others close to me were struggling too. I had no idea—because they had hidden it just as well, and their lives looked just as perfect.
Social media is powerful. We get to choose what the world sees, and most of the time, we choose only the highlights. We don’t always share when we’re hurting, overwhelmed, or quietly falling apart. We don’t always post about rough days or moments when we desperately need someone to listen.
Social media can be a mask—and we decide which one we wear.
Please be kind. Remember that we truly never know what battles someone else is facing. What we see is often just a small snapshot of what someone wants us to see, not the full story.
I am so grateful that I am still here. A couple of years ago, I never would have believed my life could look the way it does today. I’m thankful for the people who showed up for me, and for those who have shared their own stories with me since I chose to take my mask off and become more open about my mental health journey.
