Me, My Life & Why Part 10
Short stories from the edge of executive dysfunction
Part 10: I Accidentally Went Viral (Sorry?)
I posted a video.
A stupid, blurry little thing filmed horizontally with toast crumbs on my sleeve and under-eye circles that deserve their own postcode.
The caption?
“Today I ate a whole loaf of bread, cried in the shower, and decided productivity is a cult. ✌️”
I thought it’d get twelve views.
Maybe a sympathy like from Gemma, who only comments on posts that mention carbs.
Instead?
One hundred and seventy-eight thousand views.
Fifteen thousand likes.
Two sponsorship offers (???) and one comment that simply said “mother.”
Mother?
People started sharing it like I’d said something revolutionary.
All I did was have a breakdown with decent lighting and an oddly relatable tone.
“Girl SAME,” they wrote.
“This. Is. Me.”
“Say it louder for the neurospicy babes in the back.”
And my personal favourite: “Do you do life coaching?”
No.
I barely do laundry.
Suddenly, I was being quoted.
Screenshotted.
Stitched by influencers with middle parts and expensive mugs, nodding solemnly over my “I refuse to earn rest” monologue.
I refreshed the feed.
One million views.
I stared at the number like it might blink.
People started following me.
Messaging me.
Calling me brave. Raw. Authentic.
All because I stopped pretending to have it together and publicly spiralled with a slice of toast.
Somewhere, my high school guidance counsellor is weeping into her “5 Year Plan” template.
At first, I was flattered.
Touched.
Slightly euphoric.
Then it got weird.
Someone asked for my morning routine.
Someone else wanted skincare tips.
A woman in Wisconsin sent me a DM saying I’d saved her marriage.
(I don’t even know how I’d save my phone battery, let alone a marriage.)
Another message:
“You’ve found the words I didn’t know I needed. Do you have a course?”
A course?
Ma’am I’m wearing mismatched socks and drinking cold tea out of a mug that says “World’s Okayest Human.”
There is no course.
There is no system.
There’s just… me. Unravelled, slightly sticky, aggressively honest.
And apparently, that’s content now.
I called my mum.
She asked if this meant I’d be updating my CV.
I said no, but I did accidentally become a thought leader in emotional chaos.
She told me to “be careful with the internet.”
Which, fair.
But here’s the thing:
It wasn’t a brand strategy.
It wasn’t a content plan.
It was just me saying the thing out loud for once.
The thing we’re not meant to say.
That sometimes being a person is too much.
That toast is a coping mechanism.
That unwashed hair and inbox guilt and nap-based survival doesn’t mean you’re failing.
It just means you’re overwhelmed, alive, and trying.
The world saw me in a moment I never would’ve curated.
And instead of turning away, they said, “same.”
So maybe we’re all a little broken.
A little burnt out.
A little over the whole “wellness as a performance” thing.
And maybe if we stopped trying to be interesting, inspiring, or impressive, we’d finally feel a little… real.
I don’t know what happens next.
Maybe I post again.
Maybe I disappear for two weeks and come back with three more unhinged monologues and a recipe for banana toast.
All I know is:
I was my weirdest, rawest self.
And people clapped.
Which means… I might be onto something.
Or we’re all just spiralling together.
Either way?
Comforting.
About the Creator
Laura
I write what I’ve lived. The quiet wins, the sharp turns, the things we don’t say out loud. Honest stories, harsh truths, and thoughts that might help someone else get through the brutality of it all.
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