An Ode to the Insta Husband/Wife

Sunday, 12 January 2020

Oh, the Insta Husband/Wife,

The unsung heroes of every blog and the associated social media platforms. Behind every cute outfit photo and carefully curated 'candid' shot, is an Insta Husband or Wife who has undergone weeks, months, or even years of training. They've learned the angles we love and the ones that will make us cringe when we look back at the photos. They've mastered the kinds of shots that we love and have learned to simply mutter to themselves when we're still not satisfied.

You're a special bunch, Insta Spouses. You have learned and accepted that a wintery walk or a trip out for coffee is not simply just that, it's a 'Gram opportunity. You show patience time and again; when we tell you even after 3748638 shots that none of them are quite right and could you just snap a few more, or when we stop you from tucking into your food, or delay your first sip of a hot chocolate so that we can bag the perfect aerial shot. You roll you eyes, tut and tell us how basic we are, but we don't care, and we know you don't mind really (except maybe where food is concerned).

Some of you are so well-versed that you don't even need prompting. You simply hold out your hand, take our phones and get that shot as soon as the stack of pancakes is put in front of us,, or when we stumble across a location that is 'Gram-worthy. You truly are good eggs.

So, Instagram Wives and Husbands, I guess what we're trying to say is thank you.

Thank you for knowing our best angles.
Thank you for not starting to eat until we get the perfect shot.
Thank you for never just taking one photo.
Thank you for not losing your rag when the living room is in chaos after a session of taking flatlays.
Thank you for partaking in the silly selfies.
Thank you for making us laugh while shooting so we look cuter and less awkward.
Thank you for putting up with us whinging when we can't get the edit right.

Honestly, though. You're awesome.

Love,
Bloggers & Instagrammers Everywhere xo

The Fear Of Being 'Boring'

Sunday, 5 January 2020

I've said it so many times, but I'll say it once more... Your mid-late twenties is such an awkward stage of life. Half of my Facebook friends are getting married, having kids, getting mortgages. And the other half are out getting trollied every weekend, 'living their best lives' and spending most of their Sundays with a hangover.

And then there's me. The thing is, because I have no desire to get hitched or get pregnant any time soon, I feel like I should be in the latter category, making the most of my lack of responsibilities and making sure every spare moment is packed with having fun.

But I'm so far from it. While I spent the ages of 18-22 out on the razz, with plenty of hilarious drunken stories, or going on various adventures on my days off, it's a pretty different story now. I'm more of a pjs-on-and-bra-off-as-soon-as-I-get-home kinda gal. Two glasses of wine is plenty and my new idea of an exciting Saturday night is ordering a pizza instead of getting it from the Asda counter, putting a face mask on and staying awake through an entire film. It's genuinely at the point where it's a bit of an office joke, when my colleagues will inevitably ask at around 5:20pm on a Friday 'Are you doing anything exciting with your weekend, Sian?' and I'll shake my head and say 'Just a quiet one' and they'll all chuckle because that's always my response and I should definitely be doing more with my free time.

But it's something I've grown more self-conscious of. That I've become 'boring'. That 18 year-old me would look at 25 year-old me and say 'What the bloody hell happened to you?' I'm at the perfect age to do lots of fun and exciting things but I just don't. And I really worry that I'm 'wasting my youth' and I'll get to my 40s, look back and wish I'd made the most of this time making memories.

It's still very much a process, but I'm trying very hard to realise that all of this doesn't make me 'boring'. And a huge part of that is trying to train my mind to not compare myself to others my age.

The truth is, I was partied out by 23. One night out every six months is totally fine for me, and having a few drinks with friends in a pub where people aren't spilling vodka and Red Bull down your dress and where flat shoes and a jumper are socially acceptable, is much more appealing. And quite frankly, I don't want to waste my Sundays nursing a hangover.

I still love an adventure, and while I'll probably never be one to run away halfway around the world with only a backpack, the small adventures still count all the same.

I'm trying to remember that it's totally okay to spend a full weekend in the house, in my pjs, binge-watching TV. In fact, sometimes it's what I need, when the busyness of the world and work and everything else just gets a little bit too much. Having something in the diary every weekend that's notable isn't a necessity to be enjoying your life.

What I am pretty good at doing, is taking joy in the small and ordinary things. Things like the first cup of tea on a slow Sunday morning, or breathing in crisp, fresh air when you first step out of the house. Things like laughing hysterically with your best friend over a glass of wine, or singing at the top of your lungs whilst driving. Things like a hug from my mum, or the look on my little niece's face when she sees me, and comes running up to me for a cuddle. Because to her, I'm certainly not boring. (although she's only 4, so perhaps she doesn't know any better!)

Yes, maybe sometimes I wish my life was a bit more exciting and varied, full of days out and with less of the mundane stuff. But let's be honest, life gets in the way. The stuff you see on social media is often a highlights reel, people don't often show you when they're spending the day cleaning the house, doing the food shopping or the other boring adult stuff that everyone needs to do!

Again, it's still very much a process for me. I'm trying to keep in mind, when I feel like I'm not 'living' enough, that it's totally fine for my preferences to change, for the way that I like to spend my time to differ to five years ago. That doesn't make me boring. It just makes me, me.

What do you think? Is this something you've struggled with? Let me know in the comments!

Love,
Sian xo