Do You Even Like That, or Did the Internet Tell You To?

There’s a moment that hits me sometimes when I’m scrolling through my feed. I’ll pause on a trending dress, a curated kitchen aesthetic, or a color-coded bookshelf and think to myself, do I actually like this? Or do I just think I should?

It’s a question that lingers, especially when so many of our preferences are formed in public. We’re constantly liking, saving, sharing, and reposting. And in that process, we’re not just expressing ourselves. We’re absorbing what the internet tells us is worth wanting. Whether it’s a viral oat milk brand or the right shade of beige, what we consume begins to reflect more of what we’ve seen than what we’ve actually chosen.

This isn’t new. Social influence has always played a role in shaping consumer behavior. But what’s different now is the scale and speed at which it happens. Platforms like TikTok, Pinterest, and Instagram collapse the gap between trend discovery and adoption. What used to take months to trickle down through fashion magazines or peer networks now happens in hours. We don’t just notice trends, we internalize them, often before we even realize it.

Psychologically, this is tied to what researchers call the mere exposure effect. The more we’re exposed to something, the more we tend to like it. It’s not because we’ve reasoned through why we like it. It’s because our brain equates familiarity with safety, and safety with preference. What shows up repeatedly on our feeds becomes more than just noise. It becomes normalized. Desirable. Even aspirational.

This can create a feedback loop, where visibility drives preference, and preference drives further visibility. It’s the reason why trends often feel like they’re everywhere all at once. It’s also why taste can start to feel homogenous. When everyone is curating their lives from the same visual moodboard, individuality becomes harder to locate.

But it goes deeper than that. On a more emotional level, the internet offers a kind of collective reassurance. When thousands of people agree that something is stylish, smart, or aesthetically pleasing, it gives us permission to like it too. We are social creatures, and part of how we form identity is by aligning ourselves with signals of belonging. There’s comfort in shared taste. There’s also status.

And this is where the performative aspect of taste comes in.

Online, we don’t just engage with things we like. We also engage with things that make us look a certain way. A well-timed book recommendation, a niche coffee order, a neutral-toned apartment — these aren’t just lifestyle choices. They’re subtle brand signals. We’re constantly managing how we are perceived, and taste becomes another tool for that. Not because we’re being disingenuous, but because self-presentation is now part of how we navigate both social and professional spaces.

So what does that mean for authenticity?

I think the answer lies in intentionality. Real taste is not about resisting trends for the sake of rebellion. It’s about being aware of how influence works, and then pausing long enough to ask whether something actually aligns with who you are and what you value. That pause matters. It’s where discernment begins. It’s where you begin to tell the difference between what resonates and what simply circulates.

For me, this means occasionally stepping away from the scroll. It means noticing what I’m drawn to without a thousand other voices shaping my reaction. It means allowing my preferences to evolve more slowly, outside the pace of what’s trending. Sometimes I find that I genuinely love the thing. Other times, I realize I was just caught up in the moment.

As someone who studies consumer motivations, I think one of the most important shifts we can make is toward more reflective consumption. Not just asking what we like, but asking why we like it. Who told us it was desirable? Whose version of taste are we borrowing? And is it actually serving us?

Because in a world full of curated feeds and manufactured desire, reclaiming your own taste might just be the most authentic choice you can make.