There’s a strange kind of sadness in the way people glow these days. Their faces are smooth, their lips complete, their smiles perfect, but their eyes? Their eyes look like they’ve seen too much. Not in the wise way. In a tired way. The kind of tired that no sleep, no cream, no weekend getaway can cure. You can feel it in cities like this one, where everything sparkles, but nothing feels real.

By Murielle Hebbo
Everyone’s chasing something… Money… Beauty… Validation. People used to dream of peace… Now they dream of being noticed. We used to live for moments…Now we live for proof.

The Mirror That Never Sleeps

We no longer look in mirrors to check our reflection. We look to check if we’re still relevant. Every day, more people stand under cold clinic lights, whispering, “Just a little change.” A smaller nose. Fuller lips. Sharper jawline.

They call it “self-love,” but it’s really fear wearing lip gloss. Fear of being overlooked…Fear of fading into the background of a world that only applauds perfection.

The mirror has become our worst friend, always showing us what’s missing. And the sad part? We listen. We let it convince us that being natural is a flaw, that being human is outdated.

We erase ourselves little by little, thinking we’re becoming better. But every time we fix something on the outside, something deeper cracks within.

The Expensive Kind of Empty

There’s a kind of poverty that no amount of money can fix. The kind that hides behind designer bags, flawless selfies, and the words “I’m fine.” We call it success…But most days, it feels more like a struggle for survival. Wealth used to mean safety. Now it’s a performance — a language. If you can’t speak it, you’re invisible.

Everyone’s trying to look rich, not because they want the money, but because they want the meaning they think comes with it. They want to be chosen… Admired…Respected… They want to matter.

And maybe that’s the saddest part…We’re not obsessed with being rich…We’re obsessed with being enough.

We Mistook Attention for Affection

Somewhere along the way, we began to confuse love with visibility. As if being seen means being loved.

It doesn’t..One fills you… The other empties you faster than it feeds you. Attention is sugar, sweet, addictive, and gone soon, while affection is bread, quiet, grounding, and rare. We’ve built a whole world on sugar.

Likes, views, followers, filters. The more we get, the hungrier we become. We keep performing, polishing, pretending. We don’t live for moments anymore… we live for reactions. And in that endless scrolling, we forget what real connection feels like. We mistake engagement for empathy…We think hearts mean heart…But they don’t.

The Loneliness Behind the Glow

The truth is, no one’s really doing as great as they look.

Even the happiest people are carrying something heavy behind their curated smiles. You can fix every inch of your face, but you can’t fill the emptiness behind your eyes. Loneliness isn’t always a quiet room. Sometimes it’s a dinner table full of laughter that doesn’t reach your chest. Sometimes it’s being surrounded by people but feeling unseen. Sometimes it’s the silence that follows the post going up, the kind that hits right after the notifications stop. We’ve mastered the art of appearing fulfilled. We just forgot how to be fulfilled.

The Gentle Return to Real

But maybe just maybe people are starting to wake up.

Perhaps we’re getting tired of pretending. Tired of curating our lives like museum pieces. Tired of chasing perfection that never stays. There’s a quiet shift happening.

You can feel it in the way some people post without filters. In the way they talk about softness again. In the way they choose peace over performance.

Maybe the new luxury isn’t wealth… It’s rest.

Maybe the new beauty isn’t flawlessness… It’s freedom.

Because there’s a kind of richness that never trends. The kind that comes when you stop performing and start existing. When you let yourself laugh without needing to record it. When you look in the mirror and finally see someone worth keeping, not changing.

Maybe the real glow-up isn’t about how you look, but about how it feels to come home to yourself and stay.