I got into the interiors Instagram world late last year, launching @illjustgohome and feeling pretty smug with my bright, white city centre studio, I felt confident sharing my space. Because it was a brand new building, I had a completely blank canvas to work with, so a trip to Ikea and a mooch around Homesense later, it was Instagram worthy. This meant I dived right into the interiors community on the app, and absolutely loved it, but when we moved to our 300 year old rented tenement during the great lockdown of 2020, I suddenly felt a little...behind. 

light grey kitchen with plants and amber glass fruit bowls

When we first moved in, we had this dark zoo print wallpaper covering the length of our living room and kitchen - if you follow my interiors Instagram account, you might remember just how happy I was when it was torn down - and the rest of the walls were painted a mid-grey, which for some reason looked a bit beige in the bedroom. Obviously, this wasn't what we'd choose, and I found the reality of going from an Instagram-ready white box to a less than picturesque, much darker flat, a bit daunting, especially when it come to sharing my home on social media. To some of you reading this, that will sound SO stupid, but I know there's some of you out there who'll totally get it, and you're who this blog post is for. I'm saying this as someone who's fell into the trap - stop comparing your home to the ones you see on Instagram.

The past few years have seen a running conversation about body image on social media, with people (rightly so) preaching you shouldn't compare your body to those you see on apps, especially as they're facetuned to fuck half of the time. But I find myself comparing my home just as much as my body lately.  

tv unit with books and boardgames, and gallery wall on wall behind tv

Scrolling through some of my favourite interior Instagram accounts, I found myself comparing our small tenement to giant mansions, 4 bedroom townhouses and chic apartments overlooking Manhattan's skyline. Why?! Is it just part of being in your mid twenties and not knowing what the hell you want? Is it the tale as old as time - always wanting what you can't have?

Yes, I've always dreamed of a sleek, expensive apartment overlooking NYC, but I've also always dreamed of a cosy flat in my home city of Liverpool, shared with someone I love. I am beyond grateful that that is just what I've got. I get to wake up every day to my amazing boyfriend, we cook together, we shop together, and I watch Netflix whilst he looks at memes on his phone. The dream. So why the hell do I keep comparing our 30 x 12 ft place to places ten times bigger or across the world on Instagram? Is it just the way we're built now? 

photograph of bedroom with white walls, monstera cheese plant, large mirror, gallery wall of orange, blue and pink art

Sometimes when I scroll, I catch myself comparing, and have to stop and remind myself to be grateful for what I've got, the things I've always wanted. I know that as we grow, so will our home, and one day we'll even have an outdoor space and a dog (or two), but constant comparison on Instagram can make you feel the need to rush. Sure, some 25 year olds seemingly have their homes and their lives all figured out, but a lot of others don't. Some would even kill for what we have now. Our path is different, and that's okay. I like getting excited about what's next, and I'd much rather have that sense of adventure than feeling like we're done and dusted already. 

So next time you find yourself comparing your home to what you see on Instagram, stop, remind yourself of what you have, take a moment to be grateful, and remind yourself of what you don't know about the person behind the grid, because you never know the full story. Or you know, you can just convince yourself they have noisy neighbours and their house smells like damp and then you don't feel so bad. 

Good vibes guys ✌🏼