Are we living—or just performing for the internet?

A lot of people dismiss me for loving matcha. When I say dismiss, I mean there are DMs in response to my perfectly green, heart swirl intact matcha latte photos that either ask me if I am living in a Gen Z daze, if I am really taking my Cosmo personality seriously, or if my taste buds are dead. At that moment, I often type out a message the length of my little finger before deleting it in favour of the voice in my head that tells me “not today.” I mean, I would never defend the taste to those who refuse to partake in my love for the drink. But, the hill that I want to definitely die on is the one where I explain to dear DM-er that I make it every morning, with a ceremonial grade mix, and add almond milk with such precision that I have fleetingly considered a career in barista sciences. In short, I am serious about my matcha—it is not a pretence. Ok?

The more time I spend on social media, the more I feel disconnected. Someone recently told me I lack personal branding. And for some reason that only my tired brain can comprehend, my mind immediately conjured a big billboard, with my teeth shining like a flossy dream and a barista-on-hire tag line painted below. What this advice meant, of course, is that I am not able to create a version of myself on social media that is unique or can fit into the influencer/thinker/ baker/financial advisor/meme king and related categories.

The truth is, I really struggle. You see, the performance of it all is like turbulence on a flight. You know that you (mostly) won’t crash, but if you look and feel totally chill through it, you need to change your therapist. In short, why has performance become so important that the lack of it just won’t fill that endless void that you cry about at 3 am? “Comparison is the thief of joy,” is what I—we all—often remind ourselves. Apparently former US President Theodore Roosevelt said it first, and then Lindsay (played by Carey Mulligan) in the new season of Beef (Netflix) in a sharp, if not expected, underlining of the privilege debate that the series subtly spotlights. But that’s also what social media thrives on—comparison. Be it your Strava stats or the book cover you posted so everyone knows you still read.

This instinctive conflict is not only an emotional one, it is physical, and it is all-consuming. How many times have you picked a colour to dress in, thinking how it would look on the ’gram? Do you choose to go for lunch at a destination that sells boba tea because boba tea is cute and they have a ridiculous teddy bear figurine hugging the straw? Or, do you feel compelled to get your nails done because cat-eye is so in and everyone should know that you know. It is exhausting, honestly.

So, how do you stop performing? “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand, they listen with the intent to reply,” wrote American educator Stephen Covey back in 1989 in his book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. The statement eerily still holds, and more so on social media. Update the reply with a reaction, and that’s where the performance comes to head. We draw an image of life that we want our audiences to react to—and if Shakespeare hadn’t written it for As You Like It, then ‘All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players’ would have made a starkly original catchphrase for the META lives that we are all living.

Of course, not everyone is performing—but with a private account, no display photo, and a scanty following, are you at least being a good spectator? Are you taking mental notes like everyone else? And, at the risk of this sounding like a rant, it is imperative that I come to the main point. Which is that there actually might not be any.

Validation is a deeply human need, so is self-actualisation—so the question now is what makes us feel enough. If psychologist Abraham Maslow was drawing up his pyramid that illustrates human needs and how they are prioritised—in the digital age, what would it read? That’s something we should all ask whenever we know we are performing. Sharing, community-building, and feeling connected is a beautiful experience that social media has offered us, but if there is an additional step between making that matcha and posting about it (now this has become a sermon to the self), remember to pause and ask why? And once in a while, as the kids are saying these days—touch some grass, man.

Lead image: Shutterstock 

This article originally appeared in Cosmopolitan India May-June 2026 print issue.

Also read: Everyone wants a 'reset'—but what are we actually looking for?

Also read: I listen to 'cringe' songs to calm down and I’m not guilty about it