Why I #fits

How posting fashion thirst traps to IG is helping my recovery, before you judge me

I shouldn’t even be writing this post. Essentially I’m writing it because I’m worried about people judging me, which I shouldn’t be worried about, because people who judge people on the internet aren’t terrible, but I’d suggest they’re a bit immature or maybe haven’t experienced all the fullness and richness and pain and joy of life enough to know that we all have to get by and the things that help us get by are typically small things ~ hot coffee, clean sheets, sun, a clear sky.

Increasingly these days the small things are virtual: posting a photo to cheer ourselves on for being bothered to cook (okay, chop) a nutritious meal (instead of picking up another kebab), liking pictures of dogs doing the hands in challenge, double tapping self-kindness memes from Margeaux Feldman, relistening to Pod Save America episodes because I like the vibes, posting thrifted outfits and creating cute #fits…

And we are also increasingly virtual. The impressions we give each other; the extent of our communication. I want to be my whole self but it’s not possible in pictures, so instead I show two halves. I post a heartfelt message but I paste it onto a photo of me in combats I love, that I got for a steal in the children’s section of a store, and my favourite snuggly hoodie. I describe producing a podcast that speaks about writing coercive control beneath a sexyish selfie; me, capturing myself, here, now, alive, taking pleasure in feeling hot at 36, in the tiniest heat wave of this barren British summer, in shorts my mum shortened and a pink top I found on sale recently that has become my “first date top”. I am fun and I am serious. I am passionate and I also value meaninglessness. I am brain and I am body. I am literature and I am cute hair clips.

Let me explain. Let me tell you a story about being nice to myself, and buying rings, and taking selfies, and searching for meaning.