You ever feel like your skin is just a container for other people’s needs? Like you’re not even a human being, just a 24-hour concierge service for a toddler who screams if his toast is the wrong shade of tan. You’re tired. Beyond tired. You’re vibrating with this weird, low-level static. So you sit there in the dark at midnight and you watch HER. This lifestyle vlogger with the perfect, airy kitchen and the husband who probably doesn't leave his crusty socks on the dining table. She’s your only friend, even if she doesn't know you exist. It’s some textbook parasocial shit, I know, but god, I need it. I need to believe that life can be that quiet and that beige. You start small. A few glass jars. But then it becomes an obsession. You find the exact SKU for the bamboo-lid canisters she uses. You spend three hours—three actual hours—alphabetizing spices while your kid is finally napping. You’re hunched over on the floor with a label maker, sweating, heart racing like you’re defusing a bomb. It has to be perfect. If your pantry looks like hers, maybe your life will feel like hers. Maybe you won't feel like a domestic failure who hasn't had a real conversation with an adult in four days. You’re chasing this visual symmetry like it’s a goddamn lifeline. And then she finally posts. A new "Restock With Me" video. And you see it. The exact same arrangement of quinoa and chia seeds. Your heart literally skips a beat. It’s not just a video; it’s a COLLABORATION. You’ve achieved something together. You’re standing in your kitchen at 2am looking at your handiwork and you feel this hit of pure dopamine because you’re in sync.