💓🍒CHE’LA MAREE✨🎀 life in FL

@chelamareeeee

You know those accounts that make you pause mid-scroll because they feel *real*? Like, someone actually lives inside your phone screen? That’s @chelamareeeee. One Tuesday, I watched her film laundry folding in her tiny apartment while a gecko darted behind the dryer. No filters, just the AC humming too loud and her muttering, "Okay, George, not *on* the clean socks." It’s that kind of unpolished Florida slice-of-life—where humidity isn’t a metaphor, it’s the third character in every video.

Her magic is in the mundane. While others chase viral dances, she’ll spend 45 seconds documenting a failed attempt to grow arrowroot in her sticky balcony garden. You hear the *thwack* of a screen door, smell the phantom salt-air from her drive-thru coffee run in St. Pete, and cringe-laugh when she trips over her own boogie board. She films grocery runs like they’re epic quests ("Cherries at Publix? *Impossible.*"), making the ordinary feel like insider gossip. No fancy edits—just shaky iPhone footage and her voice cracking when she tries (and fails) to pronounce "gator" like a local.

What hooks people isn’t grandeur; it’s the comments section. Followers tag her in pics of *their* sad-looking orchids, writing, "Did CHE’LA Maree curse my plants? 🌱🙏." She DMs back troubleshooting tips, and you’ll spot replies like, "Tried your avocado pit trick—still dead but my toddler calls it ‘Papa Smush.’" That’s her niche: turning tiny wins (and flops) into shared inside jokes. When she posted a tearful clip about her first hurricane prep, strangers flooded her DMs with spare generator cords. It’s community, not content.

Not much is public beyond what she shares—just hints. She’s hinted at Gainesville roots ("I miss UF’s oak trees, not the exams"), uses thrifted sundresses even in July, and owns a rescue dog named Mango who photobombs *everything*. Her ‘About’ section? Just "20s | FL | my AC is my soulmate." You won’t find brand deals plastered everywhere; she’ll promote a local Key West conch fritter shack because "the owner lets Mango lick the fryer oil." It feels like a friend texting you a video instead of a creator chasing clout.

At its core, her account is a love letter to Florida’s messy heartbeat. Not the Instagram-perfect beaches, but the reality: geckos in the shower, sudden downpours that ruin your hair in 30 seconds, and finding joy when the A/C finally kicks on. She’s proof you don’t need tropical sunsets to captivate people—just honesty, a phone, and the courage to film your laundry disaster. For anyone who’s ever felt Florida was "too weird" to be home, CHE’LA Maree whispers: *This chaos? It’s yours. And it’s beautiful.*