Performing Happiness

Have you ever seen someone’s Instagram story — them laughing with friends or posing in a  fancy café — and thought, “Wow, they must be so happy”? I know I have. But as I get older,  I realize that most of us only show the parts we want others to see. Behind the smiles, the  captions, and the perfectly filtered images, there’s often a very different story unfolding. 

We live in a world where it feels like we have to look happy, even when we’re not. It’s like  we’re stuck in an invisible competition to make our lives seem perfect. I’m 17, and  sometimes I feel like I should already have everything figured out. But the truth is — that’s  just not real. 

Many of us are hurting. Quietly. 

I’ve had days when I laugh at jokes, hang out with friends, and respond to texts like  everything is fine. Then I come home and feel completely empty. No big reason. Just a  strange, heavy feeling I can’t explain. It’s not always sadness — sometimes it’s just  numbness. But what do I do? I keep going, keep smiling, keep pretending. 

And I know I’m not the only one. 

Friends of mine have told me, weeks later, that they were going through something serious  during times when I thought they were doing great. One said, “I didn’t want to bring the  mood down.” Another said, “Everyone else seemed happy, so I didn’t want to ruin it.” That’s  when it hit me: maybe we’re all just putting on a show. Not in a fake way, but in a self protective way. We create this false atmosphere where we feel like we have to seem okay — even if we’re falling apart inside. 

The sad part? It’s exhausting. 

I think part of this comes from how society still treats mental health. We talk about it more  than before, but there’s still this unspoken belief that you should only open up if things are  really bad. Like, unless you’re at your breaking point, you’re just being dramatic. But  emotions don’t work like that. You can feel lost even if everything looks fine on the surface.  You can feel broken even while getting good grades or sharing laughs. That doesn’t make you  weak. It makes you human. 

The more we hide our true feelings, the more we disconnect from each other. We look around  and assume everyone else is genuinely happy — and we start feeling like we’re the only ones  struggling. That just adds guilt and confusion on top of sadness. It’s a lonely cycle. 

So, what can we do? 

I’m not an expert, and I’m still figuring it out myself. But I’ve realized how powerful honesty  can be — even if it’s just with one person. You don’t have to share everything with the world.  You don’t even need to make a “real talk” post on social media (though that’s totally fine if  you want to). Sometimes, it’s as simple as saying, “Hey, I’m not doing great today,” to a close  friend. That small moment of truth can help break the false atmosphere we all contribute to.

We also need to stop treating emotions like they’re something to be ashamed of. Feeling sad  doesn’t mean you’re negative. Feeling anxious doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means  you’re dealing with things that matter. In fact, feeling deeply shows that you care. 

It’s okay not to be the “positive vibes only” person all the time. It’s okay to have bad days.  And it’s more than okay to talk about it. 

We don’t have to make our lives look perfect. Life is messy and complicated — especially as  a teenager trying to juggle school, family, friendships, and your own thoughts. No one has it  all figured out, no matter how perfect their social media looks. 

So next time you find yourself forcing a smile just to keep up the act, pause for a second. Ask  yourself: Who am I doing this for? And what would happen if I just spoke the truth? 

Maybe, just maybe, someone else would finally feel safe enough to do the same. 

Because behind the smiles, behind the posts, and behind the jokes, we’re all just trying to be  seen. And we all deserve to be seen — not just for our happy moments, but for our real ones  too.