If we had a dollar for every perfectly lit, avocado-toast-eating, affirmation-chanting, self-declared mindset coach-slash-productivity guru who told us how to live our best life while their own is held together with masking tape and unpaid EMIs—we’d be richer than the value they bring to our lives. Which is, well…you guessed it. Nada.
Let’s get one thing straight, right off the bat: If a naked person offers you a shirt, you’d be wise to check if you still have your wallet. Yet, every day, millions of us scroll, double-tap, and drool over the digital snake oil peddled by “influencers” who have less authenticity than a knockoff Rolex at a Bangkok night market. Welcome to the age of Perfection Porn-where the only thing more filtered than the photos is the truth.
Let’s travel to the Global Circus of Perfection and see what we can discover. From Seoul’s K-beauty queens to LA’s fitness gurus, from Mumbai’s “boss babes” to Paris’s minimalist-chic crowd-perfection is the new pandemic, and it’s more contagious than the common cold. South Korea: The land of glass skin, where influencers sell 12-step routines and Photoshop apps with equal gusto. But behind the scenes? Skyrocketing rates of cosmetic surgery and anxiety. United States: The #VanLife movement-beautiful people living in beautifully curated vans. Until you realize half of them rent the van for a weekend and the other half are editing out the overflowing porta-potty. India: The “rise and grind” hustlers, who post sunrise yoga shots and #MondayMotivation, but conveniently omit the 3 a.m. panic attacks and family WhatsApp drama.
Here’s the dirty little secret: Perfection is a product, and you’re the target market. The more you buy into it, the more you lose-self-esteem, peace of mind, and, occasionally, your common sense.
Behind every perfectly angled “candid” photo of an influencer sipping matcha on a Santorini rooftop is: a breakdown they haven’t posted about, a credit card debt they don’t disclose, and a life coach certificate downloaded from the University of Nowhere dot com. And yet, here they are, selling you “10 steps to morning greatness” from the bed they haven’t made in 3 days.
“Don’t be fooled by the filters. Even trash glows under neon.”
The roll call of global fakery would look something like this: That fitness influencer in LA who claimed you could “sculpt your abs with breathwork” got caught editing their six-pack on Facetune. That crypto-hustler who promised financial freedom and posted #LamboLife? Turns out the Lamborghini was rented by the hour and he lives with his cousin in a studio apartment with a broken sink. The Bali-based digital nomad who sold you the dream of remote work bliss? She got deported for violating visa rules while preaching about “ethical travel.
If you introspect, you will run into this gospel of curated chaos. And as a culture we are addicted to it. A little mess, but cute mess. A little anxiety, but pastel-tinted. A little trauma, but conveniently edited to fit into 60 seconds of “realness.” These influencers don’t show up. They show off. They sell you peace of mind when they’re running on fumes and Red Bull. They offer you financial advice while ghosting the taxman. They speak of “finding purpose” while they themselves are sponsored by shampoo and serums.
Be careful when a naked person offers you a shirt.
Translation of the above reads something like this-If someone hasn’t done the work, don’t let them sell you the manual. If someone hasn’t walked the talk, don’t buy the sneakers they’re selling. And if someone hasn’t stared their own demons in the face, don’t let them coach you through yours.
If you are prepared to look behind the curtain, you will see it is not pretty, but it is real. Let’s call out the BS for what it is. Perfection is performance. Authenticity is quiet. Growth is messy. Healing is non-linear. And nobody—and I mean nobody—has it all figured out.
So next time you feel a pang of inadequacy watching someone’s “perfect” life unfold in 30-second Stories, remember: It’s curated. It’s edited. And it’s probably sponsored by a tea that makes you poop.
Real wisdom rarely screams. It whispers. The loudest advice usually comes from the most unexamined lives. Authenticity doesn’t trend—but it transforms. It won’t get you likes. But it might get you back your sanity. Your life doesn’t need to be aesthetically pleasing to be meaningful. Screw the grid. Fix your gut. Not the filter. Stop outsourcing your self-worth to strangers. If they’re not living your life, they shouldn’t be leading it.
Remember the Adage: If a naked influencer offers you a shirt, run. Or at least, ask for a receipt. Curate Your Feed: Follow people who show the mess, not just the magic. Celebrate Flaws: The real flex? Owning your imperfections. Scars, stretch marks, bad hair days-bring it on.
Imperfect is the new iconic. No more naked advice. Suit up in your own skin. Don’t buy the life they’re selling. Write your own damn script. Stay real. Stay raw. Stay wary.
Perfection is a Ponzi Scheme. Now go forth—unfollow the fakers, embrace the mess, and remember: real people don’t glow.
And yes, vulnerability can be a superpower!
Yes, even I am tired of seeing these perfect posts. Perfectly shaped people showing how to do yoga or exercise or stretches. Homes which looks so perfect when in reality in the real natural world, for instance, in the forest there are beautiful flowers lovely trees alongside yellow leaves dead plants and rotting stuff. By removing all the imperfections we are killing the natural beauty.