8 Reasons Pinterest Is The Ex-Boyfriend You Hate To Love

Here’s my theory on Pinterest: it’s the ex-boyfriend you hate to love. It’s the ex-boyfriend that tries to turn you into something you’re not but you simply can’t get enough of him. You keep going back to him because he’s addicting, he makes the time go by when you’re bored, he provides a temporary high. He sweeps you off of your feet only to let you crash when you fall. You like the idea of him, but you soon realize that you’ll never measure up to who he wants you to be. You’re chasing after him, but he’s not worth the chase.

As much as I love you, dear Pinterest, you are simply trying to force me into being someone that I am most certainly not. I’ll never measure up to the ridiculous standards you set. You force me to pin inspirational E.E. Cummings quotes, adorable animal cupcakes, and creative nail art patterns that are way out of my league. You force me to escape into this dream that my life is in fact together. You force me to believe that my life is “Pinterest perfect,” when you and I both know that couldn’t be further from the truth.

I would love to continue our rocky relationship, Pinterest, because you sometimes know me better than I know myself. You not only know what hairstyles I like and provide the most creative Halloween costumes, but you also bring my visions to reality. You make be believe in myself and strive to be greater. For that, I will be forever grateful. However, I think you need to lower your standards a bit, because you’re starting to make me feel like shit. Accept me for who I am, not who you want me to be.

1. I’m not a makeup artist, nor do I intend to be. Unless you want to spot the bill at Sephora, stop trying to make me do ridiculous things to my face. Contouring? What does that even mean? Why are you trying to tell me that painting my face a totally different shade will make me look better? I don’t understand, nor do I have the time or dedication. Sorry. Love me for who I am, not by my failed smoky eye attempts.

2. Oh, you don’t like my cooking? MAKE YOUR OWN GODDAMN SANDWICH. As much as you’d like me to live up to my standards as a woman, I certainly do not belong in the kitchen, nor do you want me be. So, please, eat the stupid grilled cheese and stop forcing fancy recipes down my throat. You’re setting me up for failure and I don’t appreciate it.

3. My nails literally always look like shit. Get used to it. Sorry if they make you cringe, but I won’t pretend to care about them. And I certainly won’t waste my time painting them with intricate designs when I have better things to do.

4. I know that you want me to start putting more effort in my baked goods around the holidays, I get it. Why have plain chocolate chip cookies when you can have cute reindeer cupcakes? Everyone loves reindeer cupcakes! But, seriously, they all taste the same. Plus, you’re not the one who has to watch young children fail to appreciate your hours and hours of tedious efforts. They shove it down their throats like it’s nothing, and when they do, it makes me die inside. Those antlers took 4 f*ckin hours you brats.

5. Sorry, but you aren’t a licensed therapist. I appreciate the effort with these “comforting” words, but you put zero energy into making me actually feel better. Can you at least pretend to care? It’s like you search through Instagram for #quotesoftheday when I’m feeling sad and spit them back at me like I mean nothing to you. I’d rather drown my sorrows in a bottle of wine than hear you say “the best is yet to come” one more time. I’m not supposed to be cracking open a fortune cookie open every time I come to you for advice.

6. You are the LAST person who should be giving me fashion advice. You’re all over the place. One day you’re telling me to pair my chevron shirt with a chunky necklace and the next day you’re telling me to wear black lipstick and combat boots. Make up your damn mind, Pinterest. I can’t be preppy one day and edgy the next. I don’t have the funds nor fashion sense. Why would I want to continue a relationship with someone who tries to tell me what to wear, anyways?

7. Should I even get started with the wedding planning? Seriously, pump the breaks. You might think the cute DIY wedding crafts you throw at me are cute and inspirational, but it’s honestly making me want to throw up. I’m not ready for that type of commitment. You’re suffocating me. Relax.

8. I made a New Years resolution dedicated to you. Essentially, my resolution was to be less of a slob. I planned to keep my room clean, make my bed every morning, stop throwing my clothes on the ground, etc. I know you hate how unorganized I can be, and I tried to take your advice, I really did. However, all of the organizational printables and cleaning checklists you were throwing at me at once just became so overwhelming. I can’t dedicate my life to someone who measures my self-worth based on color coordinated closets and deep-cleaning disinfectants.

Pinterest, I love you. I really, really do. You have brought life to my empty wine bottles and inspiration to my rather crippling artistic side. You have gotten me through some of the worst of times. But, to tell you the truth, you are simply like a drug. I take a hit and feel good for a while, but the comedown makes me wonder if it’s all worth it.

It’s not you, it’s me. Wait, no, it actually is you. You’re a bully. Stop trying to tell me what to wear, stop telling me how to dress up my cupcakes. Stop undermining my efforts by setting me up for failure and stop trying to force yourself back into my life. I don’t care if you have more pins to share with me, you’ve shown me enough, and I’m not taking anymore. You’ve given me enough false hope. I’ll never measure up to your standards and to be honest I’ve stopped giving a shit the last time I failed at your stupid “Bunny Butt Cookie” idea on Easter (seriously, who came up with that?). You’re trying to turn me into something I’m not, and frankly, you’re kind of an asshole.

Stop trying to make “Pinterest perfect” happen, it’s not going to happen!

Featured image via Brett Jordan on Pexels


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