Is This Real Life? Or Are We All Just Pretending?

Lately, I catch myself whispering “this can’t be real life” more than I say good morning. And it doesn’t even take much to spark that feeling—an ignorant comment from a stranger, a jarring headline, or a tone-deaf ad plastered on the side of a city bus. The absurdity is everywhere. The cruelty is casual. And the disconnection? It’s damn near spiritual.

How did we get here?

I’ve been working in the retail industry for over 25 years. I’ve been trained, promoted, coached, taught, and tasked with shaping others—and somewhere along the way, I started seeing the shift. Not just in the industry, but in the people. The way we treat each other. The lack of thought, the missing humanity. And it hit me: I’ve been watching the simulation glitch in real time.

Because yes, sometimes the “real world” feels more like a dream sequence no one’s waking up from. And being awake—truly awake—is both blessing and burden. Blessing, because I see what’s broken. Burden, because I can’t unsee it. Awareness makes you heavy with truth, even when everyone else is pretending.

And being a Black woman? That takes the entire experience and amplifies it by a thousand.

We are the originators of damn near everything (I say that with every ounce of black-cocky-ass-privilege I can muster). The foundation. The soul of nations. Yet we’re treated like a footnote. Like an afterthought. We’ve carried trauma and joy in the same breath. We’ve been praised and punished, desired and dismissed, loved and loathed—all while still showing up and holding it down. When you start to really see this world as it is? When the veil thins and your intuition won’t let you sleep through the lies anymore? It stops feeling like reality and starts feeling like some twisted cosmic joke.

Because what is real anymore?

Is it the Instagram highlight reels and false flexes? Is it the grind culture disguised as purpose? Is it the fake smiles and small talk, the fleeting likes and empty promises? No. That ain’t it.

Real is the call you can make in the middle of the night and not apologize for. It’s the look in someone’s eyes when they actually see you. It’s shared joy. True connection. Energy that doesn’t ask for performance. And real is becoming harder to find in a world obsessed with appearances.

It’s not just the big things—the wars, the politics, the hate so deep it scorches. It’s the everyday indifference, the way people treat each other like extras in a play they’re starring in. The way connection has become content. The way thoughtfulness feels like a dying art.

I’ve spent decades in retail, watching people shift, watching priorities warp under capitalism’s fluorescent lights. I’ve been trained to lead, to coach, to sell—but no one trains you to survive a world that’s hollowing itself out. No one tells you what happens when you start seeing with your real eyes, not just your regular ones.

And now that I do see? I can’t unsee it.

Sometimes I wonder if “real life” is just a performance we’ve all agreed to. A staged reality show where the script got lost, and now we’re all freestyling through disaster. But then there are those rare, sacred moments—where the mask slips and the light gets in. A real hug. A real laugh. A soul-level connection that doesn't need Wi-Fi. That’s real. That’s the part I still believe in.

Maybe that’s why I avoid my cards sometimes. Maybe that’s why I silence my intuition. Not because I don’t believe—but because I do. Because I feel the unraveling. Because I sense the shift. And even though spirits are breaking and timelines are folding in on themselves, I still hold out hope.

Even in the unraveling, there’s clarity.

Even in the ache, there’s awakening.

Maybe this isn’t the end. Maybe it’s the revealing. Maybe we’re meant to walk through the collapse—not to survive the old world, but to imagine something truer on the other side.

Because the moment we stop hoping… the illusion wins.

If this hits you in the chest—good. Sit with it. Share it. Reflect on it. And then ask yourself: What do you know to be real? Let’s stop pretending this is normal. Let’s start building something that is.