Something hideous has happened; somebody I hate-stalk on social media has gone and got herself birded up.
Hate stalking, by nature, is a risky little game (not to mention really unhealthy and self-sabotaging.) One slip of the thumb and the jig is up. You can un-like something all you want, but the notification is already out there, flying through the airwaves towards their phone.
But as well as being a dangerous past-time, it’s already really emotionally taxing work. It’s selfish of her, really, to get herself a fella – I mean, how am I meant to find the time to stalk and subsequently mock her account and now a completely new one without any sort of notice period. Being bitter is hard enough work as it is without all this extra admin.
So why do I do it? Why do I religiously check her account each day, thumbs poised, ready to screenshot? Why do I lie on the couch in my underwear, covered in crumbs, scrolling through her photos of brunch thinking, “well that avocado looks a bit brown anyway, love, so good luck with that.” By nature, I’m not a nasty person, so why be such a bitch?
Maybe I’m jealous of her. That’s what anyone would think if they checked my camera roll to reveal the screenshot collection; a treasure trove of self-inflicted negative vibes. But – and I say this hand on heart – I really don’t think it’s that.
Perhaps it’s just because I can. Putting anything online gives people the opportunity to mock you; be it publicly or privately. But does that mean you shouldn’t post your fire selfie or that picture of your cat? Absolutely not.
Truth be told we’re all probably the victim of somebody’s secret hate-stalking. Right this second, someone might be posting your last status into a group chat for their mates to absolutely slaughter you. If you knew, would it bother you? Yes, it probably would a little. Would you get over it? Yes. Would you think they were really sad individuals with nothing better to do? Definitely.
And that’s exactly what that girl would think if she ever knew how much time I’ve invested in probing the background of her mirror selfies to find something to skit.
On finishing this blog I took one last look at her account. I rolled my eyes at the artisan-gluten-free-probably-fucking-delicious cookies she baked last night. I cringed over the pet name she used in the (obviously-staged) photo of her fella napping.
Then I un-followed her, the world has enough negativity without me adding to it.
Until next time… x