Hey Kaleigh!

Tag: writing

  • Becoming ‘That Girl’ Online Versus Becoming Myself in Real Life

    I know how the algorithm wants me to live. 

    Wake up early, fall asleep with lemon water waiting on my nightstand. Keep an organized journal in perfect handwriting. Sunrise spilling over an immaculately made bed. A matcha latte with perfectly frothed oat milk. Pilates, skincare, soft lighting, neutral tones, color palettes. Becoming that girl.

    Online, that girl feels attainable. You just need the right filters, the right angles, and the right aesthetic props at hand. The digital version of myself can look composed, candid, balanced – even if the photo took 15 tries and I shoved a pile of unfolded clothes out of the frame.

    But real life isn’t nearly as polished.

    Like I wrote in my piece about romanticizing my skincare routine, I’m learning that true self-care isn’t about creating the perfect version of myself – it’s about learning to sit with who I really am.

    In real life, I am still learning how to find myself – and that version is far less attractive.

    Sometimes, becoming myself means sleeping through the alarm sometimes. It means beginning the day with coffee before gratitude journaling because as a teacher I don’t have much time and I can’t think straight without caffeine. It is being ambitious despite feeling anxious, purposeful but also overwhelmed, calculated but also unorganized. It means admitting that balance is not always possible – that sometimes I don’t meditate, and sometimes my skincare routine is just splashing water on my face before bed.

    Online, self love can feel like a performance. Offline, it feels like a process.

    Becoming that girl online is about crafting perfection. Becoming myself in real life is about learning to sit with the imperfections.

    I have spent a lot of time chasing the Kaleigh that looks decent on camera. But recently, I have been trying to find the Kaleigh who feels secure when no one is watching. The Kaleigh who makes time for her friends, even if she doesn’t have a lot of them. The Kaleigh who prioritizes joy, and lets herself rest without guilt. The Kaleigh who knows that not every season needs to be a glow-up.

    I am learning that the most authentic kind of self-improvement doesn’t have to come with a 24-carat aesthetic. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s honest but inconsistent. Sometimes it’s plainly deciding to be a little bit more transparent with myself than I was yesterday.

    Because becoming that girl may get me likes. But becoming myself is what’s bringing me peace.

  • Why Writing Instagram Captions Feels Like Therapy

    There’s something oddly cathartic about crafting the perfect Instagram caption. I am not talking about the cheeky “in my main character era” kind (although I love a good T.S. innuendo). I mean the kind where you sit with an emotion, wrestle it into a few words, and manage to make it sparkle.

    This is not just wordplay, it is a digital diary.

    When I scroll through my camera roll, I am not just looking for my finest angle. I’m searching for a moment that meant something, even if the memory was as short as the camera flash. The gelato that led me to discover a cherry allergy. The bartender I swore looked like Jason Kelce. The photo where my face is asymmetrical and my smile is off-center, but unmistakably real. And when I sit down trying to caption those photos, my intention is more than racking up likes — I’m trying to convey my feelings in a sentence or two.

    A picture is worth a thousand words. But none of my followers are going to read all that. Maybe it’s the writer in me. Or maybe it’s the part of me that wants to be seen. Instagram captions let us share just enough. We can be witty, honest, arrogant, sentimental — sometimes all at once. It’s a space to reclaim control over our stories, in a feed that is often too curated by an algorithm to be anything but real.

    There is also a freedom in knowing it’s not that serious…and yet, sometimes it is. A caption can be a subtle confession delivered through lowercase letters. A double entendre that landed when you felt like you weren’t funny anymore. A quote that you needed to read, even if you had to write it yourself first.

    So yes, caption writing is sometimes a catharsis. It is the digital version of your diary hung in a gallery with your friends, family, and fans. And while I won’t downplay actual therapy for a Notes app draft, I will leave you with this: when the words finally land, and your post goes public, it does feel like a little exhale.

    And that has to count for something.