My Best Friend Never Likes My Instagrams So I’m Pretty Sure She Wants Me To Die

My Best Friend Never Likes My Instagrams So I'm Pretty Sure She Wants Me To Die

Girl Code is a beast of a rulebook.

Founded by the sisters who came before us, it dictates the appropriate way to deal, interact with, love, and loathe your fellow women. Everything can be brought back to Girl Code when it comes to dealing with your female friendships. And honestly? You don’t ask questions about Girl Code. You just follow it.

Interested in a guy who Brit used to sloppily make out with every Friday in college? Suck it down and forget about it without having a full out cry-fest over Pinot Grigio with her. Not okay.

Katie’s put on the “first office five” since going from waiting tables to working in a cubicle? You say *NOTHING* about it to her face and triple check you’re in the right group message when bringing it up over text.

You really hate that Lauren is suddenly trying to make hats work? Doesn’t matter. You will enthusiastically compliment her eccentricity until she buys you your own bowler that you have to feign even MORE enthusiasm over.

Why? Because Girl Code that’s why.

And with the ever expanding presence of technology in our world, there’s had to be additions made to include said technological advances in the already full book that is, Girl Code. So now there’s a whole new chapter called “Social Media Girl Code” with subjects devoted to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, LinkedIn, and so on and so forth.

Being a girl is exhausting. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

Navigating Instagram as a female is pretty trepidatious, as is. You have to make sure you look good but not so good that everyone is zooming to see where/if you Facetuned. You can’t ‘gram TOO often lest you be labeled desperate. You can’t use too many hashtags or everyone will not only call you desperate, but also accuse you of trying to become Instagram famous. It’s tricky.

But even trickier is the navigation of dealing with your friends on Instagram.

I thought the top three rules were as follows:

1.) Never post a photo with a friend where you’ve Facetuned yourself but not her.

2.) Always get a great photo of your friend up with the appropriate amount of emojis on her birthday. She must look like a 9 on the fuck-ability scale in said photo.

3.) Always like your friend’s new pictures. Always.

My best friend has a GREAT Instagram game – I won’t lie. Poses are down, Boomerangs pop off, filters are perfectly curated. Girl’s got a great feed, I will never deny that. It’s why she hits triple digit likes within 30 minutes of anything she posts. She’s gotten to the point in her Instagram “career” where companies have started sending her shirts in the hopes that she’ll wear them in a photo with a little shoutout. So as much as we make fun of her for wanting so desperately to be on The Bachelor and eventually be able to hawk Sugar Bear Gummies in her late twenties, she’s actually on her way there.

In the aforementioned “triple digit likes” you will always, ALWAYS, find my handle in there. Usually somewhere near the top unless I’m working enough that I haven’t done a quick scroll through as a breather. I do my part to add to her self-esteem boost each and every time she posts. Because yes, I love her and what’s a little double tap other than some affirmation that I support her ability to be hot online. But also, Girl Code.

But when it comes to my own Instagram, I can’t say the same.

Getting attention from her on Instagram is like getting attention from the fuckboy who never texted you again senior of college. It’s such a high, such an “omg she noticed!!” that I may as well be offering to loan her rent money so that she tells me how pretty I am. It’s few, it’s far between, and it usually only happens on pictures where my bra is semi-showing or after 11 PM on a Friday when I’m sure she’s searching for the bottom of a bottle of red wine.

I have passive aggressively joked about this with her when she was fake laughing for a photo on a boat that I was taking. Did she immediately like my own photo that I posted? No, sir. All I got was a half-eye roll and an, “Oh my god, Em. You’re sooooooo ridiculous lolz” before she went back to making sure she didn’t have an at-risk-chin in the photo she needed.

Am I crazy? Highly likely.

But am I wrong in assuming that she doesn’t love me as much as I love her because she won’t give me the attention Girl Code deems I deserve? Also likely.

Currently, she has posted a photo of herself at some party over the long weekend captioned simply with the party popper emoji and the sparkle emoji. It’s currently at 221 likes.

I am refusing to be like 222.

But when I inevitably get the fake casual message in our group text saying, “Omg did you see my gram from Nate’s over the weekend? Shit. Was. Lit.” which means, “Bitches go like it NOW,” I’ll probably cave. And I’ll cave because fighting over Instagram is admittedly stupid and I’ll cave because Girl Code has made me a push over.

Silver lining? Girl Code has also dictated that girls are allowed to hold every little grievance in our back pockets in order to bring it all up at once during a fight.

So should she ever flip out about social media in any way towards me? I’m ready thanks to the code.

Image via Shutterstock

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