I love Tassie, and I'm not afraid to say it!

I have a secret to tell you...

I really do love Tasmania.

It's one of the most beautiful places on earth, where secluded beaches roll into swathes of luscious green country side, with dirt so rich you could eat it. There are spectacular rugged mountains, canyons, waterfalls, and postcard worthy landscapes everywhere you look.

It takes five minutes to get anywhere (okay, slight exaggeration) and when you arrive there's usually a vacant car park out the front. Shop owners greet you by name and you're guaranteed to run into someone you know every time you leave the house.

There are hidden gems in every town, quirky shops, homey cafes and restaurants using delicious local produce.

For those who are lucky enough to have friends and family nearby, plus a good job, it is perfection.

It's horrible I felt the need to keep this secret in the past for fear of being shot down by my peers.

The truth is, you don’t hear many young people pronounce their love for Tasmania. Instead it’s often looked down upon as the mainland's ugly, stunted sibling (think Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones).

It's "expected" that anyone with enough talent will book a one-way trip on the Spirit of Tasmania and sail away to better opportunities.

After I graduated Uni people seemed to leave the state in droves. The thought crossed my mind but I had good job opportunities here and loved the lifestyle too much to leave.

There was a time I thought I'd failed for not moving to a big city somewhere, but now I realise it's the best decision I have made and it’s time to own that choice.

There are the haters to contend with though..

A few years ago the Lonely Planet gave my home town Devonport a really bad wrap. It said this:

"Locals line the riverbanks to watch [the Spirit of Tasmania], wave and hope that something bright, special and glamorous from the Australian mainland might stay here to cultivate and grow... they only ever come to leave again to other more interesting places."

The review went on to say this:

"Devonport remains a sedentary, mildly menacing place: speeding rednecks in muscle cars hurl abuse at unsuspecting pedestrians before lining up at the McDonald’s drive-thru."

It still makes me mad to read this.

I'd love to give this travel writer a guided tour and show him/her everything I see when I look around this patch of paradise. To show them all the "hidden" treasures that make this place so amazing.

Unfortunately, we're our own worst enemies when it comes to promoting Tasmania. We simply don't do it enough and prefer to keep it the “best kept secret” that only the locals know about.

We need to start being advocates for Tasmania and being proud to be here – then hopefully we can shake the ‘three headed bogan’ stereotype.

While visiting my sister in Queensland recently I happily told people I am from Tassie - shop keepers, randoms at pubs, people in the street - everyone!

It was a bit of an experiment after some rude reactions I received a few years ago, leading to my sister to tell me “whatever you do don’t tell anyone you’re from Tasmania.”

But this time I discovered perceptions are changing.

"Oh you're from Tasmania, cool. I've heard it's really beautiful."

"I've always wanted to go to Tasmania, it sounds amazing!"

I liked hearing those comments and felt proud that people recognise the good aspects of my home.

Tasmania is the place to be – and I’m glad to be here!

Even BuzzFeed agrees - check out 26 Reasons You Wish You Were In Tasmania Right Now!

Our digital selves - inspiring or depressing?

A thought has been weighing on my mind lately - are our digital personas taking precedence over our physical selves?

When I was younger I had a computer game called The Sims, which many who grew up in the 90s would remember. In the school holidays I would spend hours choosing the right hair, body shape and outfit so my Sim could be, in my eyes, perfect. Next was the construction and decoration of the "perfect" house for my Sim, which was equally important.

It was a perfectly constructed world (until you forgot to send the Sim to the toilet!) and it gave me great satisfaction to see everything laid out so orderly. Getting the Sim to work on time, maintaining good health, fitness, cooking for the family and having a social life were all aims of the game.

Hours would quickly fly by while I sat in the computer room, constructing a "life" for my Sim but sometimes forgetting to eat lunch!

Don't worry. I soon woke up to how silly the whole thing was and went outside to play, explore and concentrate on my own life.

But lately I've been wondering if social media has created a life-sized version of that game I used to waste so much time playing.

Last night my Mum asked me how many social media accounts I use.

"Oh not many. Just Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest (and now this blog site!)," I told her.

"That sounds like a lot," she said.

"Whatever you do, don’t ever post anything about me or Dad on Facebook. I don't want everyone knowing what we're up to."

It reminded me of the thought that's been weighing on my mind lately.

Why do we feel the need to share so many things on social media?

Typical (and oh so over-shared) posts include the salad we had for lunch, the cute thing our pet did, the 'I'm at the gym' selfie, the holiday snap, and the "look at me I'm so pretty today" selfie.... the list goes on.

But, just like the Sims, it's a perfect world that we have constructed ourselves.

What about the posts we don’t see?

What about the lazy moments when the TV wins over the gym, having one too many TimTams, or being in a bad mood?

If you looked at a lot of people's social media accounts you could assume these moments of weakness don't exist. But of course they do - that's life!

Are we so focussed on making our digital personas look perfect that we are setting unrealistic expectations for ourselves, comparing ourselves to others and making ourselves miserable in the process?

Or is it the opposite effect true, and posting on social media actually encourages us to live better, healthier, more active and fulfilling lives?

At least it makes us pause and recognise the things that make us happy (and take a sneaky photo).

But do we really need to share every detail of our life online for it to matter?

After all, we are living, breathing, emotional human beings. Not some character that's been created on The Sims.

My thought for the day!

To be continued...

Disclosure: I love a good selfie. Especially on SnapChat.