Ah, the joys of social media. I love it and hate it both the same. Facebook bores me. And while I’m fully aware that I can adjust my settings and only see what I want on my timeline, who really has time for that? It hurts my heart when I fall out of like with a friend or acquaintance after I become aware of his/hers political views, religious overzealousness, constant gym posts, or annoying statuses. Some of your kids aren’t that cute, I’m sorry. And constantly bragging about your relationship only leaves it open for critique and a good ol’ chuckle when you finally break up. I’m a hater? Hardly. Am I a mean girl? Sometimes.  Do I pretend to be the perfect social media contributor? Hell no! If you follow me, you know I keep my political and religious posts to a minimum (almost nonexistent). This is not because I don’t have an opinion, but rather because it’s private and personal. However, as one of my followers/ friends, I’m sure you’re annoyed with my constant Latino pride posts, cat pictures (admit it, Marshie is super cute), food pictures (you know you want to try the shit I cook), and annoying selfies. Yes, yes, yes…the selfies!

The “selfies” is what prompted this piece. You see, while Facebook and I are going through a rough patch in our relationship, Instagram and I are going full steam ahead. We’re in love. It’s pretty serious – for now. My predilection for Instagram is simple: pictures and 15 second videos. No long winded posts about your fitness routine, no shared articles, and no attention whoring “check ins” at the local hospital that worry all of your “friends” yet you’re elusive to why you’re there and ignore all the concerned comments. So, about a week ago (insert Bobby Shurmda voice), my guy (I don’t know what to call him, like, we’re too old for boyfriend/girlfriend, not to mention that it feels like he’s so much more than that, but I digress), were sitting on a plane. We had just spent a few, fantastic days away in a tropical destination. In the nearly 5 days away, we didn’t get into one fight or disagreement. Not sure if this is a testament to how good we are together, but, truth be told, it was effortless – at least for me. So here we are, buckled in our seats, and fussing with our phones. Since he doesn’t have Instagram (thank God), I was showing him some funny memes I thought he would appreciate. One thing led to another and alas, we’re on my page. He sees my selfies and immediately, he’s annoyed. Now, I fancy myself a classy, somewhat wholesome woman. I would never post an overtly sexual or crass picture of myself on any of the socials. Hell, I’m careful to not post pictures with an alcoholic beverage in my hand – just in case I’m First Lady someday, y’all. So, clearly, I was genuinely surprised at his disapproval. He claimed the pictures were racy and suggestive and he didn’t understand why I thought it was okay to post them. He suggested that perhaps there is something wrong with me and that I need to ask myself the whys. He implied I was “attention whoring”.  Alrighty then…flight takes off and we’re quiet for the next 5 hours. Upon landing, he once again said, “I really don’t like those pictures.”  Roger, that.

My intentions upon posting said selfies were never to disrespect myself or him, nor was I looking for new dicks. The reason for the selfies? I like me. I’m proud of me.  Unlike Beyonce, I don’t wake up like this.  It takes constant effort and money to look this way. I’m proud of my efforts. I want to display them, be acknowledged for them, and praised. Compliments from women carry more weight and mean more than compliments from men. Why? Because women know that my eyelashes didn’t miraculously grow an inch over night. A woman knows that I either have amazing mascara, dope techniques at applying false lashes, or the time and money to spend on lash extensions. A man just sees pretty.  My teeth are nice and white? Yeah, that’s bimonthly whitening treatments. My eye brows are on fleek? Do you realize the effort put forth for that alone?  For starters, I had to resist the temptation to pluck, then I had to walk around with what looked like hairy caterpillars on my face until hair finally grew and filled in some spots…THEN, I had to drive myself to the Pakistani ladies in SoNo, pay for parking, wait my turn, and pay $12. I can go on and on with my beauty regimes, but I think you get the point. Yes, sometimes I may post a selfie that shows a little cleavage but what I’m really trying to show is that I finally got my winged liner perfect – after months of practice, You Tube videos, and testing many different products.

Concluding, women dress to impress other women. Unless you’re gay (or Kanye), you really don’t care if the hardware on my jacket doesn’t match my jewelry or care that I wore patent leather pumps in the daytime. Women, you notice and care. Men, your compliments are welcomed as long as they’re respectful.

As far as my guy is concerned, I apologized. The truth is, the attention of all the men in the world doesn’t mean anything to me if I do not have his. As long as he finds me beautiful and irresistible, I don’t really care what any of you think. The selfie lives, but I vow to keep them classy.  A few likes aren’t worth upsetting the man I love and respect. Side note: my best friend agreed with him. I’m starting to worry about those two… (rolling eyes).

Oh, and one of the sweetest things he said to me on our trip? “Babe, your eyebrows look good.” Thanks, babe, if only I had your lashes!