Someone Had to Set Up the Camera First

Before someone films their perfect 5 a.m. routine, there's a detail we tend to overlook: the camera was already there.

Maybe they woke up, set it up, and got back into bed. Maybe they arranged the shot the night before. Either way, someone decided what we would see.

I came across a video recently that made this point, and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Open Instagram for five minutes. Someone is waking up early, working out, making breakfast, being endlessly patient with their kids, and somehow looking incredible through all of it. The kitchen is spotless. The lighting is perfect. Even the chaos looks carefully arranged.

Now compare that with an ordinary Tuesday.

There's laundry. A pile of dishes. Someone's running late. Maybe you slept badly and your breakfast is whatever you found in the fridge. Nothing worth filming, apparently.

The weird part is that we know how these videos work. We know people choose what to record, what to cut, and what to leave out. But after watching enough of them, it's easy to start treating those clips as evidence of how everyone else lives.

Then come the questions. Why am I not that disciplined? Why doesn't my house look like that? Why does everyone else seem to have figured out marriage, parenting, fitness, and money?

Some people genuinely have routines they enjoy. Some creators are making entertainment and make no secret of it. I don't know what happens when their cameras are off, and neither does the person watching.

Still, we keep comparing.

And we start copying things. A morning routine. An idea of success. A way to raise children. A purchase that suddenly feels necessary because ten people recommended it this week.

How many of those choices would I make if I'd never seen them on a screen?

That's the question I want to get better at asking.

I've spent a lot of time around technology, so I understand the temptation to focus on the platforms, the algorithms, the features. But I'm increasingly interested in what happens on our side of the screen. The opinions we borrow. The expectations we accept. The habits we repeat without remembering why.

I want to question those things, including my own assumptions. Sometimes I'll write about the internet. Other times about work, money, building something, family, or whatever else makes me stop and think.

I don't have a perfect routine to replace the ones on Instagram. That would be a pretty funny way to miss the point.

The next time I see someone waking up at 5 a.m. with perfect hair and a camera already rolling, I hope I'll remember that someone had to get up first to press record.