Dear Snapchat Discovery Page,

You have me caught in a toxic loop.

The Saturday morning routine begins with being abruptly woken up by the air horn you put for an alarm. Next comes a social media check, a step that I didn’t realize I had even added to my routine until the morning after I had lost my phone dancing to the song, “Baby Got Back.”

This step is crucial because it determines my mood for the day. A quick scroll through Instagram will either leave you satisfied with your appearance, or make you want to buy some White Girl Rose and force your friend to have a “candid” photo shoot with you and a bottle of bubbles.

Then it’s Snapchat. The inevitable, “Oh I’m so glad I didn’t go out last night — it didn’t even look fun” or the “Dammit, they got Grey Goose?!” that races through your mind. But it’s a fleeting thought as all your insecurities can easily be resolved after a quick swipe to left.

So now you’re on Snapchat’s discover page — a compilation of information almost as reliable as Web MD. Except in this case, it’s not that your cold indicates lung cancer, it’s, “Bizarre Things Your Body Says About You,” “How to give a better BJ,” “10 Signs He’s Not the One,” “Don’t Want to Fake Orgasms?,” “5 Moves for Perkier Breasts” and “What it’s Like Being Insanely Beautiful”.

Titles, which, for me, can naturally elicit only a completely and totally tranquil response. It’s not like all of a sudden I look down at my chest and start mimicking a couple of new moves I just learned. Or that I start wondering about my BJ capabilities, which I had thought were polished to a “D”.

But after a couple of scrolls, I start reconsidering and second-guessing every decision I’ve ever made as I hustle to my 9 a.m. Regardless of the fact that I rolled out of bed 15 minutes ago, these are the first strings of thoughts running through my head, only to be repeated the next morning, and the one after that.

It’s like Groundhog Day or an episode of Black Mirror, except I keep forgetting that I’m in control of it. In control of body shaming myself at 8:45 in the morning. In control of degrading other women as I walk by them because of what I’ve just scrolled through. And most importantly, in control of loving myself and others for who we are, because in reality, why the hell would I want to take advice from a phone app anyways?

Sincerely,

Frustrated Social Media User