Inside vs Outside

I know my anxiety intimately but only see others’ achievements.

Scrolling through Instagram at midnight, comparing my 3 AM panic attacks to their vacation photos. My imposter syndrome to their promotion posts. My crushing self-doubt to their perfect family portraits in golden light.

Fundamentally unfair competition. My unfiltered internal reality versus their carefully curated external presentation. My complete experience versus their edited excerpts.

“Why are you up?” Happy asked, finding me on the phone.

“Can’t sleep.”

“What are you looking at?”

“Rashed bought a house. Tasneem got promoted. Farhan’s on vacation in Thailand.”

“And?”

“And I’m… here. Anxious. Barely holding things together.”

She took the phone. “You’re comparing your inside to their outside. That’s always going to make you feel terrible.”

I knew this intellectually. Didn’t stop the feeling.

The psychological impact compounds daily. Every scroll reinforces inadequacy. Classmates launching businesses while I question my career. Friends buying homes while I stress about rent. Colleagues receiving awards while I battle imposter syndrome.

Their outsides suggest confidence, purpose, achievement. My inside feels lacking in everything.

But I never see their complete picture. Rashed’s sleepless nights about the mortgage. Tasneem’s professional anxiety despite the promotion. Farhan’s relationship problems hidden behind vacation shots.

Social media has no format for existential dread.

Started noticing this pattern with Arash. He’d scroll TikTok, then sulk.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Eventually: “Everyone’s cooler than me. Better at sports, funnier, more popular.”

“You’re seeing their best moments. Not their full lives.”

“But they seem so confident.”

“So do you in your photos. Are you always confident?”

He thought about this. “No.”

“Neither are they.”

The algorithm amplifies distortion by rewarding positive content over authentic. Victories get likes. Struggles get sympathy at best, judgment at worst.

Platforms incentivize emotional dishonesty that makes comparison inevitable and devastating.

My colleague Shabnam posted about her “perfect work-life balance.” I felt inadequate—I had no balance. All stress.

Week later, she confided she was burning out. The post had been aspirational, not actual.

“Why post it then?”

“Because that’s what people want to see. Nobody wants your real problems.”

Memory adds another distortion layer. I remember my struggles vividly while forgetting others’ difficulties.

Karim’s divorce happened two years ago. But scrolling his feed now, I see only his new girlfriend, weekend adventures, apparent happiness. The pain is archived. The healing is visible.

Makes it seem like he sailed through while I’m drowning.

But I remember calling him at 2 AM during the divorce. His devastation. His questioning everything.

That’s not on Instagram. Only recovery is.

I maintain complete archives of my pain while storing only highlights of others’ journeys.

Happy suggested unfollowing people who made me feel inadequate.

“That’s everyone.”

“Then the problem isn’t them. It’s how you’re using social media.”

Started following accounts that shared authentic struggles alongside achievements. People who posted about therapy, medication, bad days, failures.

Suddenly felt less alone.

One post: “Got promoted today and had panic attack in bathroom. Both are true.”

That’s real. That’s human.

Perhaps this reflects deeper tendency to privatize struggle while publicizing success. Share achievements because they reflect well. Hide challenges because they threaten desired image.

Creates collective illusion that everyone else figured out life while we alone struggle.

The person whose life looks perfect also scrolls feeling inferior.

Liberation comes through recognizing asymmetry. Everyone comparing their inside to others’ outside creates universal inadequacy.

Tasneem admitted this over coffee. “I see your posts and think you have it together.”

“Me? I’m a mess.”

“You look happy in photos.”

“Photos are three seconds. Life is everything else.”

We both felt better after admitting mutual inadequacy.

Started posting more honestly. Not performative vulnerability—actual reality. Good days and bad. Achievements and struggles.

Lost some followers. Gained better conversations.

“You’re posting about therapy now?” a cousin messaged.

“Yeah. It’s part of my life.”

“Seems… personal.”

“Everything’s personal. We just pretend it’s not.”

Arash noticed the shift. “Your posts are different now.”

“Different how?”

“More real. Less… perfect.”

“Good or bad?”

“Good. Makes me feel less weird about not being perfect.”

The solution isn’t eliminating social media but changing relationship to it. Remember posts represent moments, not lives. Practice gratitude for complete experience rather than covet others’ excerpts.

Still struggle with comparison. Old patterns die hard.

Saw university friend’s post about his startup’s funding. Felt immediate inadequacy—I’m just an employee, not entrepreneur.

But caught myself. Remembered his complete story includes previous failed businesses, financial stress, relationship breakdowns.

The funding announcement was one moment in complex journey.

My employment includes stability he lacks, predictable income he sacrifices, time with family he misses.

Different paths. Not better or worse.

Tonight scrolled and felt that familiar inadequacy starting. Someone’s book deal, someone’s award, someone’s perfect life.

Then remembered: they also have 3 AM anxiety. Also question themselves. Also struggle with things they don’t post.

Everyone has inside lives they don’t share, outside presentations that don’t capture full truth.

The vacation photo doesn’t show the argument that happened before. The promotion post doesn’t mention the imposter syndrome. The perfect family portrait doesn’t reveal the chaos behind the smile.

Started practicing gratitude for my complete experience. Anxiety and achievement. Struggle and success. Messy reality instead of curated highlights.

Posted today: “Had terrible anxiety this morning. Also got important work done. Both are true. Both are me.”

Got messages from people relating. Thanking me for honesty.

Realized: authenticity creates connection. Performance creates isolation.

The comparison trap dissolves when we stop comparing. When we remember everyone’s fighting battles we don’t see. Experiencing doubts they don’t post. Struggling in ways their feed doesn’t reveal.

Tonight I remember: behind every achievement announcement is someone with the same insecurities I carry. The person posting vacation photos might have the anxiety I felt this morning.

Because everyone has inside they don’t post about.

And that’s okay. That’s human.

We’re all just doing our best with what we have.

Some of us just filter it better.