Are You Part Of An Annoying Smug Couple? Stop It. Stop It Right Now!

I wasn’t going to say anything. I was just going to let it all slide like a lubed-up Teletubby down a waterslide.

But #relfies have just tipped me right over the OFFS ledge. 

Never heard of a #relfie? It’s the ring finger selfie you take when your man proposes. And please don’t be posting any old crap up under the hashtag – your hands better be looking like they were manicured by angels and washed in the fountain of youth.

XOJane reports that surgeons in the US are getting requests for ‘hand lifts’ so that women don’t have to be shy about showing off their ugly wrinkled hands. 

All you need is love and shit-ton of cash #amiright? There’s a reason ‘relfie’ sounds like you just horped. 

I’ve been watching this slow avalanche of brag posting ever since relationship status updates became a thing with Facebook. 

Maybe it’s the modern-day equivalent of shouting your love from the rooftop, except now crazy has taken it to the next level, shouting ‘love, sex, engagements, weddings’ louder, bigger and brighter than everyone else. 

Like the #aftersex selfie. Or my personal favourite: People who set up joint couple Twitter accounts or adopt a wedding Twitter hashtag. 

It just feels less like a celebration and more like constant approval seeking, or comparison monitoring. A kind of focus on attention from everywhere and everyone but the people who matter most: the two (or three or four) people actually in the relationship. 

When I see those heavily engaged in proclaiming their togetherness foreverness with their partners/relationship/rings/wedding dresses/status updates (or just the random in the #aftersex selfie who may or may not know they’ve been tagged), I can’t help but wonder if the poster is aware that there are real people involved in their one-man show. 

I know there’s a risk of sounding like a bitter old love Grinch but those near and dear to me will testify to the fact that I can be as starry-eyed as the next Disney princess. 

But good heavens, boundaries people. Boun. Da. Ries. 

All the world might be your stage but what happens when one of the cast members want to leave? It’s not diamonds that are forever, honey, it’s social media. 

Ask anyone who has tried to extricate themselves from years’ worth of ‘us’ postings they never posted. 

Why do you think I’ve never named the people I write about? 

I don’t know about you, but in these parts there seems to be a rash of one-year marriages that flare down the aisle, hashtags and IG ablaze, with all the grace of a Boswell Wilkie Circus only to spontaneously combust a months down the line when the party’s over and the hashtags have become boring.

Who are we making the movie of our lives for? Maybe that’s just part of being human – the desire to be seen.

But shouldn’t we be a little more careful when we move our hearts from sleeves and onto the screen?