{"id":119608,"date":"2020-01-30T11:22:34","date_gmt":"2020-01-30T16:22:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/digiblocks.ca\/29secrets\/?p=119608"},"modified":"2021-02-04T17:29:08","modified_gmt":"2021-02-04T22:29:08","slug":"are-we-human-or-are-we-performing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/digiblocks.ca\/29secrets\/wellness\/are-we-human-or-are-we-performing\/","title":{"rendered":"Are We Human? Or Are We Performing?"},"content":{"rendered":"

By\u00a0Anne T. Donahue<\/strong><\/p>\n

At some point last year, I started to realize I\u2019d developed a habit: in order to impress (or intimidate) someone I knew, I doubled down on Instagram in an attempt to paint my life as something more interesting than it actually is.<\/p>\n

Which, like, welcome to social media. Nothing is new about the revelation that who we are online doesn\u2019t translate into the real world, and if we\u2019ve been sold the belief that if we were to actually post about the ins-and-outs of our day-to-day lives, our followers and friends would pass out in boredom and the app would combust. And it\u2019s not like this started with Instagram or even Facebook. MySpace was built on the same ethos, in MSN we used our names\/away messages to post song lyrics to make ourselves seem deep and cool, and circa ICQ and Geocities, we threw as much as we could at our info boxes and blank webpages as a means of cultivating personas we wish we had. (I built an Empire Records<\/em>-themed Geocities and reader, it was as stunning as it was very sad.)<\/p>\n

But nearly two decades is a long time to exercise one\u2019s performative self. And the truth is I\u2019m tired. I\u2019m lazy. And I don\u2019t have it in me to do anything but scroll and repost and toss up a photo of something that made me happy or not toss anything up at all. I also don\u2019t have it in me to split myself into two versions; to be one person around the people I know and the other person around those who think they know me. Especially since more and more, that second, oh-so-curated version of me is quite flat and two dimensional. Frankly, at this point, she\u2019s not even trying. Because at some point over the last year I\u2019ve morphed into a 30-something-year-old self who wants to treat Instagram like a Tumblr account. Here is a photo of me and my pals. But also here is a screencap of Freaks and Geeks<\/em>. I contain multitudes, blah, blah, blah, but also I just really like this shit.<\/p>\n

And when I tend to perform on Instagram, it feels like too much. When I over-analyze my own feed to decipher whether something reads as boring or interesting or a unique combination of both, it\u2019s not only a buzzkill but a waste of my energy and time. When I pour over who liked what and why didn\u2019t that guy I like comment on my photo and why hasn\u2019t so-and-so seen my story, I can feel time slipping away from me. And then I feel even more time escape when I go bananas on follow-up Instagram stories while promising myself that maybe he\u2019ll notice this<\/em> one or say this<\/em> thing or maybe I should delete whatever because it\u2019s a little too vulnerable even though it\u2019s a Sabrina the Teenage Witch<\/em> gif. And while social media is largely built on how well you\u2019re living, to split yourself into the real vs. manicured self is not a sign of living well at all. Especially since we, as people, are all disasters, and we know<\/em> we\u2019re disasters, and we know everyone around us is a disaster too. This is not a secret: most of us are trying very hard just to get through the day sometimes. Why not just embrace it? Post it? Or not post at all if you\u2019re like, \u201cMeh, no thank you\u201d? I want to see my pals doing what they want and posting the shit they love and celebrating what makes them happy and condemning what makes them want to scream into the night. I want to see my pals as my pals! And I want them to see me as the same.<\/p>\n