When the Mirror Became a Screen

There’s so much stress on us—on the planet and probably even the universe—that we really cannot know how it affects us long term.

But today I want to talk about our kids, how much time they are spending online, and how seriously it is affecting the way they see themselves.

Thousands upon thousands of images pass before our eyes every day. Online, on social media, on television. Even driving past a bus stop, we see billboards whiz by filled with unrealistic images of perfect people with flawless skin and seemingly unobtainable bodies.

All those images line up somewhere in our consciousness, quietly telling us how we measure up—or don’t.

As a teacher, I started noticing a very negative turn in teenagers at school. They were increasingly focused on what they ate, how many calories they were “allowed” to consume, what they wore, and what they needed their parents to buy so they could maximize their appearance.

And it was starting surprisingly young.

These kids weren’t simply looking in the mirror anymore.

They were looking at themselves through the eyes of thousands of other people—and comparing themselves to images that often weren’t even real.

And that’s the part I find frightening.

When I was young, of course we compared ourselves to other people. There was always the prettiest girl in school, the skinny one, the popular one, the boy everyone had a crush on. We had magazines and television telling us what beautiful was supposed to look like too.

But then we went home.

The comparison stopped.

Today it follows our kids into their bedrooms.

They can lie in bed at night and scroll through hundreds of beautiful faces, perfect bodies, expensive clothes, holidays, parties, bedrooms, houses and supposedly perfect lives. Then they put down the phone and look at their own face, their own body, their own bedroom and their own perfectly ordinary life.

How is an ordinary teenager supposed to compete with that?

And more importantly, why should they have to?

We are taking children at the exact age when they are trying to figure out who they are and handing them a measuring stick that almost nobody can live up to.

Maybe we need to remind them that being ordinary is not failure.

Skin has pores. Bodies come in different shapes. Hair doesn’t always cooperate. People have bad days. Families argue. Bedrooms get messy. Not everyone is invited to every party. And nobody wakes up looking like their filtered photograph.

A good life isn’t necessarily the one that photographs the best.

Maybe our job as parents and teachers isn’t simply to tell kids to get off their phones. Technology isn’t going away, and frankly, neither are they.

Perhaps our job is to teach them to recognize what they are looking at.

To question it.

To understand that an image is a moment, not a life.

And most importantly, to help them build enough of a life offline that the online world doesn’t get to decide how they feel about themselves.