Lately, I find myself questioning things I never used to think twice about. A photo, a message, even a simple “How are you?” they all carry a strange weight now. Not because they are complicated, but because they might not be real. Or at least, not entirely.
We live in a time where everything can be generated, edited, enhanced, or rewritten. Words can be produced instantly; emotions can be simulated and altered within a matter of a few scrolls, and faces can be perfected beyond recognition. At first, it felt impressive. But over time, it starts to feel unsettling. When everything looks, sounds, and feels ‘right’, how do we know if any of it is?
I think what’s changed most is not the world itself, but how we respond to it. We hesitate. We second-guess. We read between lines that may not even exist. Trust, something that once came naturally, now feels like a risk. It’s easier to assume something is artificial than to believe it is genuine. Just to be safe, we say.
I sometimes wonder if the way I express myself has been shaped by what I’ve seen online. If my thoughts are truly mine, or if they’ve been influenced, filtered, and subtly guided by everything around me. It’s a strange feeling, not fully recognising where “real” begins.
But maybe being real was never about being perfect or certain. Maybe it’s in the hesitation before speaking, the imperfect wording, the emotions that don’t come out quite right. Real things are not always smooth or convincing. They can be awkward, inconsistent, even confusing. And yet, that might be the only proof we have that something is truly genuine.
In a world where so much can be created and constructed carefully, artificially, being real has quietly become an act of effort; maybe even an act of courage.