Written By | Mwine Bejuura
PHOTO: For illustration purposes.
We are sold a hundred different versions of a “perfect” life and made to feel deficient for not simultaneously living them all
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We are living in an age of unprecedented access to wisdom, yet a pandemic of pervasive anxiety. The culprit, it often seems, is social media—a platform that has mastered the art of selling despair disguised as empowerment. Its greatest trick is presenting every piece of contradictory, context-free advice as an absolute truth, leaving the average user in a perpetual state of lack and self-reproach.
Consider the labyrinth of modern relationships. You may be single, feeling the weight of loneliness, only to be admonished by a digital sage: “DON’T MARRY, BE HAPPY!” So you pause, convinced marriage is not the goal. Yet, in the same scroll, you witness the celebrated anniversary of a flawless couple, their joy beaming through the screen. You crave that, too. Almost instantly, a feminist collective counters that marriage is not an achievement; “secure the bag” is the only mantra. You pivot, focusing on finances.
But then, women who have secured the proverbial bag confess that money is hollow without a partner. Some are even funding their own weddings, desperate for the very institution others dismiss. The whiplash is instant. If marriage isn’t an achievement, why the struggle? If money is everything, why does it fail to satisfy?
The rules, of course, are always shifting and always exclusive. Another post declares that only a 22-year-old virgin from a perfect monogamous home is worthy of matrimony. You, perhaps 30, from a complicated polygamous family, read this and feel your prospects evaporate. The narrative suggests your background is a stain, your existence a collection of red flags.
Then, a glimmer of hope: a story of a woman in her 40s, with children, marrying her dream partner. Your heart lifts. But the algorithm, ever eager to balance the scale, immediately serves a decree from the “Save The Boy Child” brigade: “Avoid single mothers at all costs.” They cite disrespectful children and meddling exes. Your hope curdles into fear. You pray for a man who will love you and your children, but you are told such men are being warned away. You are caught between the life you were raised to expect—complete with a respectful bride price—and a digital chorus that deconstructs those very expectations.
The confusion extends to every facet of life. You earn a decent salary, follow sensible advice to live within your means, and send your children to affordable schools. Then, you are confronted by a mother spending millions per term for “connections” and “future networks.” Your prudent choices are suddenly framed as limitations on your child’s destiny.
Desperate for a side hustle, you are inspired by success stories—fortunes made from second-hand bales or digital marketing. But you lack the capital. You start small, making juice and snacks, while others with capital dive into risky, get-rich-quick schemes. Before you can breathe, a new post declares that without land, your life is “incomplete.” You check the prices; the cheapest plot is a lifetime away from your modest savings. Another influencer then casually states that earning less than $40,000 a week is mere existence. The figure is so astronomical it becomes absurd, yet the seed of inadequacy is planted.
In your desperation, you might chase a shortcut—a cheaper visa to that promised land abroad—only to be scammed of your hard-won, borrowed money. Every piece of advice, in isolation, makes a compelling case. You should want a better school, financial freedom, property, love. The logic is seductive. But collectively, they form a cacophony of impossible standards.
And so, what is the final, desperate resort for many? Seeing yet another post about easy money on social media, you think, “Why not me?” And that’s how you start dancing on TikTok.
This is the true toll of the social media age. It is not merely about comparison, but about the systematic bombardment of contradictory, absolute directives that erase individual context. We are sold a hundred different versions of a “perfect” life and made to feel deficient for not simultaneously living them all. The path forward is not to acquire every recommended thing, but to acquire the critical filter to recognize that much of this “good advice” is simply good marketing for our own insecurity. Our sanity depends not on listening to every voice, but on learning, fiercely, to listen to our own.
Torch Media Africa
