Dear Diary

Being "interesting" is exhausting.

I’m old enough to remember a time when we could simply enjoy things like meal, a vacation, or even a lazy Sunday curled up with a book. Before social media, those moments belonged only to us. We didn’t think about how to document or cleverly caption them. No one expected a highlight reel (except perhaps in a casual conversation or, gasp, a phone call). Who else recalls enjoying each day without wondering how it (or we) looked from the outside?

These days, it feels like I’m falling behind if I can’t post something witty or insightful, or showcase hobbies or adventures. I start to worry something is wrong with me because I’m not constantly interesting.

Sometimes I watch period films set in late 1800s England and feel a pang of envy. I imagine the slow unfurling of a day that isn’t being recorded for other’s entertainment or enlightenment. No pressure to impress strangers with curated charm or fabulous dinner plates. Of course, even then, people cared about appearances—human nature hasn’t changed that much—but the judgment wasn’t instantaneous or permanent. Missteps could fade into memory instead of being shared and dissected.

I come to places like Substack to enjoy the photos and essays, but wonder if I’m alone in this exhaustion. Is this all so easy and natural for others?

When did everyone find time between real jobs and raising families to curate ten dazzling hobbies? It’s ironic that the platforms meant to connect us often leave me isolated in my quiet, ordinary lives. I worry for my young-adult children how this idea that ordinary might somehow unworthy will affect them and their happiness into old age.

And yet, here I am posting this essay on Substack, trying to offer something that might catch your attention. A contradiction, to be sure. Maybe that’s why I’m sharing these thoughts: to suggest that being “enough” shouldn’t require performance. Or that sometimes our truest connection lies not in cleverness, but in candor.

So today I’m choosing honesty over polish. I’m not particularly interesting right now. I’m just a person who misses the luxury of living without the constant need to prove I’m living.

What about you? Do you feel this pressure to perform and long for a slower way of living? I’d love to hear how you walk the line between living your life and posting about it.