We live in an age where appearances are curated, authenticity is optional, and even memories can be manufactured. The question is no longer whether we’re living real lives—it’s whether we even want to.
There’s a new service in India. For less than the price of a coffee—just 99 rupees—you can be tagged in Instagram stories from events you never attended. The Beyoncé concert you missed? There you are, front row, flute of champagne in hand. A rooftop party in Mumbai you weren’t invited to? Now your name’s in the post. A luxury brunch at a trendy café? All yours, digitally speaking.
It’s called Get Your Flex. And to be honest, it sounds absurd at first. But only until you realize how perfectly it fits into the world we’ve built.
We’re not just living our lives anymore. We’re performing them. And sometimes, when the performance feels too exhausting—or too empty—we outsource it entirely.
The Age of Manufactured Moments
This isn’t just about one clever business idea. It’s a reflection of something deeper. Something harder to name.
In 2024, the line between what’s real and what’s constructed is no longer blurry. It’s almost irrelevant. Social media has long rewarded exaggeration, but now, it’s rewarding pure fiction. And not just passively—actively. We’re creating new industries around it.
In one viral video, influencer Anish Kash exposes how ordinary users are buying their way into these faked experiences. For under two dollars, you can reimagine your life as something more enviable. Not necessarily happier, not more meaningful—but more visible. More desirable.
The truth is, we’re buying the illusion of a life we think we should be living. And many don’t seem to mind that it’s fake.
Why Are We Doing This?
It’s easy to dismiss it as narcissism. Or vanity. Or laziness. But that misses the point. The more uncomfortable answer is that something in us is starving.
1. The Validation Reflex
According to a 2023 Pew Research Center study, 72 percent of Instagram users admit to editing or curating their posts to seem more impressive. Not surprising. Human beings are wired to seek approval. It’s old evolutionary machinery—we once needed the tribe to survive, and we still carry that instinct.
But now, the tribe is an algorithm. And it doesn’t care if you’re being honest. It just cares that people are paying attention.
2. FOMO, Digitized
The University of Sussex found that nearly seven out of ten millennials and Gen Z users experience FOMO regularly. It isn’t just a passing feeling—it’s contributing to measurable increases in anxiety and depression.
And services like Get Your Flex don’t just exploit that fear. They commodify it.
3. Performance as Survival
In the world of influencers, perception is currency. It’s not just young people faking lavish lives for fun. For many, it’s a calculated career move. If you don’t look successful, you don’t become successful. That’s the unspoken rule. Which means faking it isn’t optional—it’s strategic.
But where does that leave the rest of us?
The Real-World Consequences
The temptation is to laugh this off. To call it silly. Harmless. But beneath the surface, something more corrosive is taking shape.
We’re Losing Authenticity
Psychologist Sherry Turkle, in her book Alone Together, warns that when performance replaces presence, we risk forgetting what it means to just be. To feel something without posting it. To enjoy something without proving it.
And once that muscle atrophies, how do we get it back?
We’re Monetizing Memories
By buying fake moments, we’re trading the richness of experience for cheap simulation. The buzz of a concert. The awkward joy of a messy dinner with friends. The silence of being alone but not lonely. These things don’t photograph well. So we replace them with things that do.
It’s not just sad—it’s disorienting. And once everything becomes a transaction, even emotions start to feel like props.
We’re Isolating Ourselves
The irony is thick. The more we chase connection through validation, the lonelier we become. A 2023 study in the Journal of Social and Clinical Psychology found that heavy social media users report significantly higher levels of loneliness and disconnection—even when their feeds are full.
Especially when their feeds are full.
A Mirror to Our Times
None of this is happening in a vacuum.
The influencer economy is booming. In 2024, it was valued at 21.1 billion dollars, up from 1.7 billion in 2019, according to Influencer Marketing Hub. Visibility is power. And power doesn’t always require substance—just strategy.
At the same time, digital deception is becoming normalized. Not just tolerated, but quietly celebrated. If everyone is faking it, then the act of faking stops feeling like lying. It starts feeling like… playing along.
But that erosion of truth doesn’t stay online. It seeps into relationships, trust, self-perception. And eventually, society.
So, What Do We Do?
Honestly, there’s no neat answer. No single fix. But maybe it starts with a few quiet shifts.
Redefine what matters
Instead of chasing what looks good, maybe we start asking what feels real. Even if it’s messy. Even if no one sees it.
Log off, more often
A 2023 University of Pennsylvania study showed that limiting social media to 30 minutes a day significantly reduces anxiety and loneliness. It won’t solve everything. But it might help us remember that there’s a world beyond the screen.
Stop polishing, start sharing
Imperfection creates connection. It’s okay to not have the perfect photo. Or the perfect life. Researcher Brené Brown says it best: “Vulnerability is the birthplace of connection.” And in a world of filters and fakes, vulnerability might be the only real thing left.
Hold platforms responsible
They built the system. They can change it. Removing likes, promoting meaningful interactions, curbing fake engagement—these aren’t just experiments. They’re necessary steps if we want digital spaces that reflect humanity, not just highlight reels.
Final Thought: A Quiet Choice
Maybe the scariest part of this isn’t that people are faking their lives. It’s that so many of us understand why.
It’s tempting. Understandable, even. But it also raises a deeper question—one that’s harder to ask.
If no one were watching, would we still live the way we do?
Or would we begin, finally, to live differently?
Written for The Hopinion
Because stories worth telling don’t always come with perfect filters.
