One of the misfortunes of my childhood was eating homegrown fruits and vegetables every summer. Having tasted a sun-ripened tomato straight from my grandmother’s garden in warm Central Asia, I was forever doomed to a life of culinary disappointment. Moving to North America only made the situation worse. You simply can’t untaste the taste of real food, no matter how many years go by.
I know— a bit dramatic. But this childhood experience shaped a secret obsession of mine: the dream of growing my own food. And this dream serves as a perfect example of what’s wrong with social media and how it traps us in a never-ending pursuit of a dream life that always seems just out of reach.
The endless options for your dream fife
On the surface, social media seems great. It showcases different lifestyles, offering a glimpse into various paths we could take. Want to climb the corporate ladder? There’s an influencer for that. Want to be a stay-at-home mom baking sourdough? There’s a community for you. Want to travel full-time? People are out there living that life and sharing it daily.
At first, it feels empowering. Social media sells us the idea that we can shape our dream life in any direction we want—a limitless pool of options. But if you look deeper, things get dark very quickly.
The Algorithm will always lead you to the extreme.
The way social media platforms work, your perceived variety of options actually narrows over time. Let me illustrate with my interest in growing food.
Every new video I watch about growing food is a bit “more” than the last. I started with people growing food in their backyard. Now the algorithm feeds me videos of people buying 100-acre homesteads. At first, I was watching people eating fresh salads from their garden during the summer. Now I’m watching people preserving hundreds of pounds of produce, building basement pantries, and investing in freeze dryers and walk-in freezers. I began with videos of backyard chickens. Now my feed is filled with people raising cows, pigs, lambs, and hundreds of chickens. The longer I explore the idea of growing my own food, the more extreme and unattainable it becomes.
Why does this happen? Because the extreme gets more engagement. Other content creators notice what “wins” in their space and start to copy it, feeding into the cycle.
And it’s not just homesteading. Any interest follows the same pattern:
- Start consuming mom content? Soon, your feed will be filled with families with five or more kids, all homeschooled.
- Interested in business? You’ll be bombarded with entrepreneurs chasing hundred-million-dollar revenues.
- Into fitness? Suddenly, everyone in your feed is training like a professional athlete and following rigid eating protocols.
- Want to make your home look nice? You don’t want me to go on another beige-walls rant.
Social media slowly convinces us that the extreme version is the only version of our dream life that exists. And if we’re not careful, we start believing it.
A version of your dream life you can build
But here’s what I want to convey: there’s a version of your dream life you can build with what you have right now.
Spoiler alert: You won’t see it on Instagram or YouTube because it’s not sensational enough to break through the algorithm.
It’s sensible, achievable, practical—built with patience over time, without sacrificing family, health, or sanity. But who wants to watch that? No very click-baity and has nothing to sell.
The powers of capitalism and the attention economy will always try to convince you that there is one ideal future worth striving for. The one where the sellers of this future make the most money—whether by selling you products, services, or your own attention to advertisers. Whatever idea is being pushed at you the hardest is the most profitable for them. That’s it. It has nothing to do with your personal fulfillment or happiness once you achieve that version of your dream life.
All the versions of your dream life
Let’s go back to my dream of growing my own food. Social media might convince me that unless I have a 100-acre-plus homestead is the only way to do it. But here are other ways I can make it happen:
- Start a small garden in my backyard.
- Join a community garden.
- Rent a plot from a friend’s farm.
- Move to a cheaper country and start a homestead there.
- Relocate to a more affordable rural area within Canada.
- Buy a small piece of land and develop it slowly.
- Ask neighbors if they’d let me garden on part of their property in exchange for homegrown produce.
- Partner with a local farm to rent a quarter-acre for personal use.
- Volunteer at an existing garden in exchange for a share of the harvest.
That took me less than three minutes to brainstorm. If I gave myself more time, I’d find even more options—some of which I can start right now with what I already have.
It also shows that there are many versions of my dream life. Hundreds of them. I can choose.
My grandmother’s resourcefulness
When I feel like a goal is out of reach, I ask myself: how would my grandmother go about achieving this?
Generations before us built fulfilling lives with fewer resources and without being brainwashed by polished Instagram feeds. They knew that dream lives were built step by step, using what was available.
I also like to tell my clients who like to obsess over productivity apps and get stuck in the optimization rabbit hole that the most beautiful Cathedrals I’ve seen were built without Asana, Zoom meetings, and productivity rituals. I think we can manage with a pen and paper or an analog scrum board to achieve our personal goals.
Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can.
— Arthur Ashe
What about your dream life?
Have you been fooled into believing there’s only one version of your dream life?
I bet there’s a version you can build with what you already have. No need to wait until you can afford the one being sold to you.
To read more about cultivating a calm approach to life through logic and common sense—not some woo-woo magic—check this page for bite-size ideas and this page for longer reads.
