The Picture of Perfection

The world’s human population is now estimated near seven billion souls. Despite this, I assume that many people are like me and often feel hopelessly isolated, despite near constant interaction with other people. I used to joke about this in the context of folding my fitted bed sheets. Billions of people on this stupid planet and I can’t find an extra set of hands to help me flatten this awkward thing into something even close to resembling a nice stackable square. This feeling is even stranger given the constant connectedness of the internet. But if anything, this magnifies the isolation.

In the past week, I have had two different people tell me – you know, I think I want to delete my internet presence. The reason? Because they thought it would make them happier. Sadly, I fully empathized with the rationale behind these initiatives. I tend to flippantly and sarcastically dismiss irritating facebook patterns; most commonly, the social networking braggart. Everyone knows at least one of them. Frequently employed adjectives included in this person’s postings include “amazing” and “best-ever.” These words typically modify the person’s spouse or children. I wonder if these people know they are helping to spread unhappiness at epidemic proportions. There are a great many of us who are situated in this awkward phase of life – between youth and full-scale adulthood – when many of the traditional comforts of home aren’t available to us. Expressions of gratitude are wonderful. When they are genuine, it makes both the person expressing them and the listener (or reader) feel uplifted. The reason these more boastful internet expressions make others feel sad or increase the acuity of their loneliness, is because – in my opinion – they are insincere, and thus greatly exaggerated. It is insecurity in a gratitude costume.

My hypothesis is not 100% proven, and as always, there is a margin for error. However, I believe that were these people so truly consumed with the perfection of their lives, there would hardly ever be a facebook declaration on anyone’s “best hubby ever.” I am convinced that when I reach a period in my life where it doesn’t just completely suck at least 50% of the time, my internet presence will decrease sharply. I am not afraid to admit that I’m only on here as frequently as I am because it is an escape mechanism. Yes, I love my daughter more than I can put into words. But sometimes she makes me feel totally insane to the point where I feel like going all “Girl, Interrupted” and starting a chicken carcass collection under my bed. And then there’s my educational/professional life that is intellectually stimulating, but about as warm and fuzzy as a spool of rusted barbed wire. So, I turn to the internet in my time of need. At least there, I can see that I’m not the only person wide awake at 2:00 a.m.

Thinking about the actual sequence of events that lead to some of these show-off posts can be kind of tragically hilarious. Ok, so you’re having the time of your life with your husband. I’m picturing you at this restaurant, he’s staring deep into your eyes, and you stop him – “Honey, wait . . . just one second.” You pick up your phone and fire off a quick status update on your good fortune. Then you resume making eye-babies. Awkward? Or, your child just used the potty. So you alert the internet. Meanwhile, your child sits teetering on the toilet waiting for you to finish pecking in this celebratory declaration, so you can wipe his/her little cherubic behind. Yes, I’m certain that all 625 of your friends, family, and casual acquaintances are dying to know the status of your child’s gastrointestinal occurrences. You are so completely justified in being happy about these things. But you and I both know it isn’t the proper medium for some of this expression, which leads me to question your ultimate motive here. I believe that you, like me, are looking for some kind of external validation for your existence, despite the fact that you are doing it by acting like that’s not what you’re doing.

I hope that someday, when I’ve obtained the kind of stability in my life that I deeply want, that I don’t feel compelled to tell anyone about it. To me, that is the true mark of fulfillment – when you are so completely satisfied by something or someone that it is enough just for you to express that gratitude quietly, or at least without a large audience. Again, I enjoy seeing the occasional exuberant status. It’s hard to keep loving pride under wraps at times. But, it’s being overdone. When I know what kind of workout you did and at what time, when I see a picture of what you ate for dinner and I know the name of the restaurant as well, when I am privy to the details of your honeymoon, and when I have as much familiarity with your child’s bodily processes as your pediatrician – you need to stop and question your own motives. More importantly, you need to ask yourself if you are really as happy as the image you are trying to project.