'Delulu' is dead. The Internet wants reality again

For a while there, the Internet had a very specific answer to the general exhaustion of being alive: romanticise it. Your morning coffee wasn't just coffee; it was a moment. A bad date was character development. A crush liking your Instagram story was practically a declaration of love. Even doing your laundry could become a cinematic little ritual if you filmed it with the right lighting and added a dreamy voiceover. Then came “delulu is the solulu”, manifestation boards, lucky girl syndrome, and the idea that perhaps thinking hard enough about the life you wanted could somehow make it happen. The word delulu, originally Internet slang for “delusional,” has even evolved into a playful shorthand for optimistic, slightly unrealistic self-belief.

But the mood seems to be shifting now. In 2026, social media is increasingly making room for something far less glossy: reality. The Internet's “locked in” culture has been pushing routines, productivity, and actually doing the boring work, while de-influencing has continued to challenge the endless cycle of buying whatever happens to be viral that week. There is also a growing appetite for content that looks lived-in rather than perfectly staged, from ordinary homes and messy rooms to creators openly admitting that a product, routine, or supposedly life-changing hack simply did not work for them. After years of turning everyday life into a fantasy, people may finally be ready to admit that sometimes a Tuesday is, well, just another Tuesday.

Part of the appeal of the delulu era was that it made uncertainty feel more manageable. If you didn't get the job, maybe it simply wasn't meant for you. If your situationship disappeared, perhaps the universe was redirecting you. If you were having a terrible week, you could call it your “plot twist” and move on. And let's be honest, there is something genuinely comforting about that kind of thinking, especially when the alternative is admitting that life can sometimes be boring, and even disappointing.

The problem is that the Internet eventually turned even imperfection into an aesthetic. The messy bedroom became a carefully framed “realistic morning”; the unfiltered selfie still had the perfect angle; the spontaneous photo dump was edited into a carefully considered collection of images. Eventually, even looking imperfect became another form of performance.

Now, the appeal seems to be shifting towards content that doesn't need to pretend. Someone showing the actual five-day-old leftovers in their fridge can feel more relatable than another perfectly arranged “what I eat in a day”. A creator saying, “I bought this viral serum, and honestly, it did nothing,” can be more useful than another glowing sponsored recommendation. That is essentially the logic behind de-influencing, which emerged as a backlash against overconsumption and influencer hype.

The return to reality does not mean the Internet has suddenly become allergic to hope. Nobody is asking you to stop making vision boards or enjoying your little coffee ritual. The difference is that optimism is starting to look more grounded. Want the dream job? Apply for it. Want to travel? Start saving. Have a crush? Maybe text them instead of analysing their Spotify activity for six hours.

There is also something refreshing about admitting that life does not always need a deeper meaning. You can have a bad day without calling it a healing era. You can go to the gym because you want to feel stronger, rather than because you are entering your “revenge body” chapter. You can buy one lipstick you actually like instead of convincing yourself that you need the entire viral collection.

After all, the Internet has spent years teaching us how to make ordinary life look extraordinary. Perhaps the next phase is learning that ordinary life can be enough on its own too.

Lead image: IMDb

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