Social media platforms first emerged in the late 1990s and early 2000s as a simple way for people to communicate with one another. Over time, these platforms have evolved, allowing users to share photos, post updates, and stay connected with family and friends, even from thousands of miles away. When social media first emerged, people were thrilled and curious to explore its possibilities and how it might enrich their lives.
But when did that excitement start to fade? At what point did social media shift from a space of connection and creativity to one where people began feeling negative about themselves—constantly comparing, judging, and striving to meet unrealistic standards?
For girls growing up online, social media isn’t just entertainment, it’s a mirror. Platforms such as TikTok and Instagram have become new spaces in which beauty, validation, and identity are constantly negotiated. What used to be the glossy pages of fashion magazines have now become endless scrolls of filtered faces, trendy aesthetics, and body ideals that shift faster than ever.
Victoria Gracie, a body dysmorphic disorder neuroscience researcher, can help us better understand how platforms like Instagram and TikTok shape young women’s perceptions. In addition to her research work, she is a recognized body-positive advocate, a four-time TEDx speaker, and a mid-sized fashion model.
“Social media, alongside tools like Photoshop, does create a certain beauty standard that’s unrealistic to attain,” said Gracie. “The tricky part is that we don’t fully know how seeing these unrealistic standards on a screen impacts us, especially when we see so many of them in such a short span of time.”
She added that it’s fair to say that social media influences girls’ self-perception, but the impact may run even deeper than we realize.
While TikTok trends and Instagram filters may seem new, Gracie reminds us that society has been defining and redefining beauty standards for centuries. “You can trace the idea of an ‘ideal woman’ back to the prehistoric Venus figurines,” she tells me.
Gracie put today’s beauty expectations into perspective. She explained that long before Instagram, the Gibson Girls, illustrations of women from the late 1800s to the early 1900s, were made to sell fashion. “Social media is just the latest platform to sell us a new kind of perfection.”
Gracie explains that some features, like clear, healthy skin, have a biological basis for attraction. Others, such as “fox eyebrows,” are entirely arbitrary. Filters often blend these traits, making us believe beauty equals glowing skin plus the latest eyebrow shape. The result? Endless consumerism in the form of razors, pencils, tattooing, threading, facelifts, and so much more. Miss one step, and suddenly you’re “unattractive” by social media standards, until the next trend hits, and the cycle begins again.
She points to the rise of “Snapchat dysmorphia” as a clear example of social media’s influence. This phenomenon sees people—especially young women—seeking cosmetic procedures to mirror the filters they use online. Fuller lips, cat-shaped eyes, and pointed chins dominate the digital ideal. Filters can also become addictive, and seeing one’s natural, unfiltered face can feel unsettling. Ultimately, they impose narrow standards of beauty, defining in rigid terms what is and isn’t considered attractive.
For Nura Taher, a graduate of Toronto Metropolitan University’s biomedical science program, the experience of navigating social media looks somewhat different—more personal and introspective. As a frequent TikTok user, she explains that the video-sharing app is part of her daily routine; she scrolls through videos, whereas Instagram is primarily for keeping up with friends and checking their stories. Like many, she’s aware of how these platforms influence her self-image. “Sometimes I catch myself overthinking how I look or what I post,” Taher admitted. “Social media has this way of making you question if you’re good enough, even when you know better.”
According to Gracie, this is a result of social media’s tendency to present only the most polished aspects of people’s lives.
“With dozens of influencer feeds just a swipe away…the comparison can feel endless.” Between curated images and metrics such as likes, followers and comments, many users end up feeling insecure — constantly measuring themselves against an impossible standard.
Gracie also reflected on the growing conversations around body positivity and body neutrality in the digital age. “These ideas shouldn’t be seen as rigid ideologies but rather as mindsets that exist on a spectrum.” She believes the healthiest approach lies somewhere in between.
Gracie said there is no one-size-fits-all for body image, as some find relief in turning negative thoughts positive, while others benefit from simply cultivating a gentle, neutral mindset.
Taher’s experience reflects a broader reality—one in which filters, trends, and online validation shape how young people assess beauty and success. “When I first started using social media, I used filters for fun,” she said. “But now I feel more confident without them. I like how I look naturally, and I’m more comfortable posting real photos of myself.”
Despite her growth, she admits it’s hard to avoid comparison. “I like looking up to others for inspiration,” she said. “But it’s easy to fall into the trap of comparing yourself. Social media makes it feel like there’s a timeline you’re supposed to follow, like having a career, house, or being married at a certain age.”
Social validation through likes and comments activates dopamine responses, reinforcing a cycle of comparison and constant engagement. Gracie notes that when a friend’s post gets more attention, it’s easy to feel “less attractive,” even if that isn’t the truth.
“If people agree with me, it boosts my confidence because I feel like I’m not alone in my thinking,” explained Taher. “But, even if people disagree, I like seeing different perspectives. It reminds me that not everyone thinks the same way, and that’s okay.”
What stands out in Taher’s perspective is her growing ability to separate trends from identity. “I had a phase where I tried to dress like everyone else,” she recalled. “But now I’m more comfortable just wearing what fits me and feels right.”
Still, she acknowledges the emotional toll of always being online. “You could be having the worst day and still post a smiling picture,” she said. “Social media hides reality and makes it easy to fake how you’re feeling.”
Gracie emphasized that the fashion industry has long played a role in shaping how we see beauty and, by extension, ourselves. “Fashion doesn’t just sell clothes, it sells ideals,” she said.
For Taher, faith has become her anchor. “Alhamdulillah, my faith keeps me balanced,” she said. “I believe everyone’s journey is different, and people get what they’re meant to get at the right time.” Her reflections capture what many young people feel but rarely say out loud: that behind every polished post lies a quiet negotiation between authenticity and acceptance.
Gracie believes that building a healthier self-image online begins with awareness and intention. For her, it’s not about abandoning social media, but transforming the way we use it. Recognizing filters and beauty trends as carefully crafted illusions helps girls see beyond them and reconnect with what’s real. By curating spaces that celebrate authenticity and diversity—and by setting boundaries around screen time—young women can begin to reclaim control over their self-worth.
From Gracie’s perspective on the industry to Taher’s personal journey of using social media, one thing is clear: social media’s impact is real, complex, and deeply personal. It can connect and inspire, but it can also distort and divide. The challenge now isn’t to escape it, but to redefine how we use it—to post, scroll, and share without losing sight of who we really are. Ultimately, the healthiest filter we can use might not be digital at all—it’s self-awareness.