I wan't meant for social media (Instagram)

Today I made the mistake of scrolling through the Instagram discovery page again. You’d think I’d learn by now, but nope. There I was, minding my own business, just looking for a simple DIY project — and somehow ended up 30 minutes deep into a world of perfect morning routines, beach vacations, six-pack abs, and "how to make 10k in 10 days" posts. Meanwhile, I’m just over here wondering if reheating my coffee three times still counts as “self-care.”

It feels like everybody’s chasing two things: fame and money.

And if you’re not posting about your hustle, your new car, or your matching workout sets, are you even alive??

I realized... I don’t want any of that.

I’m not built for it. I’m not even wired that way.

I’m the kind of person who forgets to post pictures on vacations because I’m too busy actually living them. I’m quiet. Really quiet. Usually, my husband does all the talking when we’re out. I’m the one smiling and nodding along, adding a few words here and there like a backup singer at a concert.

And honestly? I’m fine with it.

I’m not made for the “social life” — not online, not in real life.

I'm made for slow, simple days. For sitting outside with my pets, drinking coffee (probably cold), noticing the little things most people are too busy to see. I’m made for living a life that’s full, not flashy.

Some mornings, I wake up to the sound of my ducks in the other bedroom, quacking their little heads off like a gang that just realized breakfast is late. When I finally walk in, they give me that side-eye, like, "Excuse you, you could've knocked first." Other mornings, it’s Tucker — my sock-stealing dog — proudly marching up with something from the laundry basket, challenging me to a game of tug-of-war I never agreed to. And let's not forget Tinker, my parrot, who has mastered the art of revenge-pooping if I don’t move fast enough to set her on her bathroom perch. Influencers have cute little coffee shots; I have feathered and furry chaos. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I still want to create. I still want to inspire people. But not the way most people think you have to. I’m not here to sell you a dream life. I’m here trying to build a real one.

One where you don’t have to “perform” to matter.

One where success isn’t about followers, it’s about waking up happy.

One where creativity isn't a job — it's just part of being human.

Honestly, my dream life looks like...

• Growing my own vegetables (even if they turn out weird-shaped)

• Having a house that smells like fresh cookies and wet dog

• Making something with my hands, even if it’s a total Pinterest fail

• Laughing so hard with my husband over something dumb that we both forget what started it

• Knowing that even if the whole world is chasing the next big thing, I’m allowed to chase small joys.

I don’t need to go viral. I don't need to have a million people like me. I just need a few real moments every day where I feel like me.

So if you ever wonder where I went...

I’m probably at home, hair in a messy bun, wearing a hoodie that’s technically "inside clothes," covered in pet hair, sipping cold coffee, dodging a parrot bomb, and trying to win back my sock from Tucker — and honestly loving every second of it.

This life? Might not be "Insta-worthy." But it’s me-worthy. And that’s more than enough.

Today I'm grateful for :

My family

My husbands sense of humor

Nature (spring, birds, flowers, grass, sunshine, warmth).

Till later,

Anastasia