Since a young age, we girls have been told never to compare ourselves to others. Those magazine covers are Photoshopped, the Kardashians have personal trainers, and that girl from high school you still stalk took 23 shots to get the perfect Instagram. Their beauty is not our beauty. You and I know this. I can shamelessly eat a full bowl of ice cream while watching Bachelor hot tub scenes without a second thought about my growing food baby.

Now this doesn’t mean I don’t have any insecurities. Quite the opposite. For me, my insecurities stem specifically from social media. The problem with social media isn’t the accessibility to other’s lives but my own.

Almost every time I go on Facebook or Instagram, I click on my own profile and scroll through the photos. Forty minutes later, I’m zooming in on photos from freshman year of high school.

How did I get my hair to do that?

Wow, my makeup looked really good that night.

I was so much thinner then.

I don’t compare myself to others - I compare my current self to my past self. Instead of remembering all the fun from high school, all I can think about is how much better I looked back when I was sixteen.

Self-stalking is a horrible practice, much worse than Facebook-stalking your ex’s new girlfriend. More so than any celebrity or frenemy, I am most jealous of younger me. I could never look like Kate Hudson, but I could look like I did five years ago. I often find myself wrapped up in self-hatred and feeling ashamed for not looking like, well, me.

While many people avoid the bathroom mirror after stepping out of the shower, I avoid Facebook so I don’t have to look at my tagged photos. I don’t like what I see because I expect to see high school me. And you know what? I’m sick of avoiding my social media mirror. I may not look like I did when I was sixteen, but that doesn’t mean I’m any uglier. I’m older! And with age come change.

Yes, I miss the abs I used to have, but no longer do I want to play three varsity sports. I’d rather be gossiping over wine with friends. Yes, sometimes I curse puberty for taking away my once narrow hips, but man my butt looks good in high-waisted jeans. I have more freckles, and my hair is never styled but these are signs of time spent out in the sun, and not in my bedroom with a curling iron.

I understand that I can’t just flip a switch and instantly feel comfortable in my early twenties body - it’s not that easy. I know that it’s going to take some time until I no longer rush to untag myself after receiving the dreaded Facebook email about new photos. I need those photos. I want my college experience to be documented. I want to self-stalk like you’re supposed to, scrolling through with friends, and laughing at our costumes for theme parties, or about our crazy spring break trip to Cancun. There are too many things to worry about (boys, graduation, real life) to worry about how I look in a photo. It’s time to stop hiding, and find some good lighting.