Today I Am A Monster

Today I am a demonic monster. That is the image that I put into my blog and on social media. Therefore it must be true.

Yet it isn’t, is it? Because behind the keyboard and with a click of a button I can tell you what I am and it is believed. Social media allows us all to be whatever we want to be. But social media isn’t real life.

If I wanted to super reduce my calories for a few weeks, suck my belly in, take a posed picture of myself and filter it I would look ripped. An instant six pack.

But I don’t want to dupe my followers or trainees. I don’t want to give people the wrong idea of what having a healthy body looks like.

I get dozens of images of posed pictures of trainers on my feed asking me to ‘sign up’ or ‘try this’ because of the algorithms on social media. It assumes that it is giving me the content most relevant to me. I’ve been in the industry too long and I’ve witnessed every trick in the book.

There might be 99% of people that their post will reach that smells the bullshit, but the 1% who buy the magic diet pill will make them a lot of money.

On social media I see people chuffed to bits sharing their bouquet of flowers on valentine’s, but are miserable as sin with their partners for the rest of the year.

I see family photos of a family and their angelic kids. A lovely moment captured yes, but we never see the kids kicking and screaming at each other and their parents losing their minds five minutes after their lovely photo. And it happens. I’ve just described my family and I know we’re not the only ones.

But it leaves the observer confused, frustrated and depressed.

Why can’t I look like them?

Why don’t I get flowers like that?

Why won’t my children behave as well as those kids?

But all we have seen is a snippet, a moment deemed suitable to share to the world. Add a bit of filter and we can all look like the idyllic movie star or The Waltons.

Social media is not real.

I am not a stage ready bodybuilder but I can be. I haven’t got hair but I can have. I am not the perfect father but I can show you my perfect father moments. I’m not the perfect husband but I can show you the flowers I bought my wife.

I am not a monster and nor am I perfect, but if I wanted you to believe that I was either one, then I am a filtered picture away from you believing that I was.