My world has become ultra-customized. My online world at least.

Every click of my mouse and every tap of my fingers tell the algorithms that run the Internet exactly what promotional content to splash across my screen. Lately I’ve found that who I am online doesn’t quite match up with who am I in reality. But maybe I don’t really know myself at all. Facebook is run by ultra-smart super-human robots after all, and they tend to know what’s best.

Truth: I am a twenty-something, cis, straight, white woman living in a big North American city. I am educated, left wing, middle class, and creative. All of this is very obvious after even the slightest glance at my online presence. According to Facebook and its fancy algorithms, this means that I am inherently interested in all of the following:

Egg Donation. Yes, those eggs. I don’t know about you, but my biggest potential contribution to society is clearly my ability to reproduce. In fact, if there were a nuclear apocalypse and we had to choose ten people to inhabit a bunker and restart the human race, I would have a pretty great chance of winning one of those ten spots. Any woman in her mid-twenties must be super-fertile, so why wouldn’t I take advantage of that even if I don’t want the trouble of actually having my own kids. This way I can fulfill my female destiny to reproduce without actually having to learn what a Baby Bjorn is for. Clearly I should be thinking about prioritizing an invasive and hormone-altering medical procedure to make sure I don’t waste any more of my healthy eggs while I’m busy building my career. Plus, I’m young, intelligent, and not-too-bad-to-look at. The world clearly needs much more of me!

Ethical Diamonds. As a twenty-something woman, I don’t need to tell you what I dream about. Facebook can tell you: Marriage. And we all know diamonds are a girl’s best friend. The trouble is, how do you reconcile your feminine desire for all things sparkly with your left wing, liberal, middle class, bleeding heart white guilt? Solution: Ethical diamonds. You may be buying into an archaic symbol of patriarchy, but now you can do it guilt-free! I may not be ready to walk down the aisle right away (career-building, big-city living, etc.) but, as Facebook knows, it’s only a matter of time.

Home Buying. Now that I’m close to thirty, it’s time to start thinking about sinking all the money I’ve ever made into a semi-detached home with a lawn the size of a postage stamp. Why keep my investments liquid or my life open to adventure when I can spend all my income on hardwood floors and hot water heaters? Because if I don’t, how will anyone out there know that I’m successful? Renting well into your thirties is clearly a sign that you can’t manage your money and harbour some strange rebel desire to stay free and independent. I must take on a mortgage and contribute to the corporate financial system so that I don’t get left on the fringes of society. In 2015, my bank only earned $10 billion in profits! It’s my civic duty to help our economy by buying into the financial system. Bonus: a 25-year mortgage means that the government will always know where to find me!

Corsets. It’s 2016. It’s been about a hundred years since women removed their corsets and started playing around with this newfangled idea of breathing. Hasn’t that experiment gone on long enough? A steady supply of oxygen is clearly overrated when the price of a deep breath is a waist larger than 20 inches. Now, I’m not talking about sexy novelty lingerie corsets that are only meant to be worn for ten minutes or less. No, I’m talking about what Killer Kurves Shapewear is now calling “waist trainers.” These “reshaping garments” are meant to be worn as often as possible so you can begin the process of “waist reduction” without having to engage in the unladylike habit of exercising. Warning: These garments may be uncomfortable and difficult to get on. You may even need a second person to help you. Why, oh why did I leave my lady’s maid back in 1888?

Butt-Panel Spanx. Back in 1888, women had the luxury of hiding their lady lumps under layers of voluminous skirts. Unlike those lucky Victorians, we’ve got to make sure our God-given thighs and bums are under control. Thank goodness I get constant advertisements for a special kind of Spanx with a unique butt-panel. Like all women, my thighs are inherently too big, so I need slimming shorts to hold them down and give me blood clots and sexy varicose veins. But with today’s media obsession with the bum, I can’t risk flattening down even an inch of my derriere. According to Facebook ads, it’s essential for every woman’s bum to be not only perky, but also separated. What possible reason could you have for needing separated butt cheeks? Well, I can think of one reason… but I’m not going to go there.

Vibrators. Facebook did get one thing right! Who doesn’t need a good vibrator every now and then? After all, being a woman in 2016 is exhausting. By the time I’ve finished daydreaming about my wedding, shopping for homes, donating my eggs, and cut my way out of all my undergarments with a butcher knife, the only thing I can do is lie back and…