#5: Do Not Perceive Me
What's the online equivalent of putting a paper bag over my head?
Dear friend,
Buckle up, because I have a bunch of disjointed thoughts this week.
Lately, I’ve been seeing social media play with the idea of perception. It is something that’s inherent to the concept of social media: posting to be perceived after all. Here’s one from Twitter I found a couple of weeks back (and a TikTok with a similar premise). I didn’t really get it when I first saw it.
This confusion was further amplified when I saw content like this:
It seemed like suddenly people on the internet were obsessed with not being perceived and being denied their existence. And despite their need to stay under the radar, they were still actively posting about it on these public platforms.
A week ago, someone I hooked up with in college popped up on my TikTok FYP, which was alarming, amusing, and absolutely mortifying. Did I go through most of his content? Of course. Was it good content? Mediocre (but he did have 50K followers).
As a millennial, I feel safe & protected that most of my friends are not on this godforsaken app and don’t see the videos I’ve posted. But this was a rude awakening! Just as how I saw this man on my FYP, I’m sure other people have seen me on theirs and that felt so…cringe.
It feels so unbearable to be perceived because it’s embarrassing — a firsthand embarrassment stemming from how I could’ve ever associated with this guy in real life and a secondhand embarrassment from his dramatic anime voiceovers. But who am I to feel embarrassed? This is his account after all and maybe he feels great about posting this type of niche content since clearly 50K people like it!
Anyway, this experience made me want to delete all my social media and I felt to my core that I did not want to be perceived by others. But here I am writing public newsletters on Substack.
I remember this Sontag quote from one of Haley Nahman’s newsletters: “One of the main (social) functions of a journal or diary is precisely to be read furtively by other people.” I’ve always journaled with that in mind, knowing that at least my future self will be reading what I write. As a result, I constantly tried to measure up my current self by some future yardstick (speaking of which, what would 30 year old Iris think of this Substack?). Unsurprisingly, this discourages me from journaling, out of fear of future (self-)criticism. When I talked about this in therapy, I worked on it in the context of perfectionism: how can I lower my personal standards so that I can more freely write and express myself?
These days, the voyeurism feels more problematic — why am I writing as if someone will read this in the future? I think one of the reasons for my built-in voyeurism is because of the content I consumed as a child:
Somehow, the implicit takeaway for me from reading these journal-style books was that a diary’s main purpose was to be entertaining or informative. It was fun to read about Amelia’s mundane drama at school and to see her drawings and (bad) scrapbooking attempts. But it felt like the act of journaling and processing alone was not enough — a diary must be worth reading or perceiving to have purpose.
I removed most of my social media at the beginning of this year, a positive change for me, and it made me realize a couple of things about how I tend to engage with platforms like Instagram. I started a running list of when I wanted to post and why in lieu of actually posting Stories.
I found it a pretty depressing list since half of it is about the weather (though it is nice in California — stay jealous, East coast pals). Somehow, all of it feels like a highlight reel: look at me doing cool things in warm weather consuming Good Content™. Just as how I performed in my journal, I performed online to an even greater degree to impress upon others an online, curated persona. But if I were to take social media as truly an expressive outlet and not a personal branding exercise, it often feels too personal to be taken out of context and consumed in the bite-sized chunks of a soundbite, post, video, or Story.
If the onset of the social media era was heralded by narcissism and peacocking, this new stage we’re entering is marked by the disillusionment of constant attention.
I like to think that I am an open and vulnerable person, but the more I look at what I say, do, write, etc. the more I realize I’m really not. I can’t even write in my own private diary without overthinking and performing so how can I expect myself to open up to others authentically? I’ve been thinking about this question and the fine line between practice and performance a lot recently so without further ado, here are my picks for the week.
Mise en Place
In which I recommend some essays, features, podcasts, content, etc.
The Oversharing Industrial Complex: On performance & posturing.
I saw this recommendation on Thought Catalog (of all places, God…), but Gatwood & Lozada-Oliva do a great job chatting about Chrissy Teigen and her (unhealthy) relationship to social media. They dive into her series of tweets post-miscarriage and the positive majority reaction that praised her for her vulnerability and honesty. What does it mean to be basically live-tweeting about a traumatic event? How should we react to that sensationalism and celebrity?
They also did another episode related to this topic too that I enjoyed.
Living with a Visionary: On sharing very personal experiences.
I cried when I read this and think it’s one of the best pieces of writing I’ve come across in a while. When I think about the right way to overshare, I think of something like this. (But then again not all trauma has to be good trauma.)
How Superficiality Won: On substance v. appearance.
I’ve been thinking about this podcast a lot since I first listened to it because the delineation between substance and appearance is applicable to so many parts of our lives. Wolf talks about social media in particular in this episode, but a bunch of her other work deals with this distinction (here’s one on wealth).
Sensory Bites
In which I suggest a few random things on my mind.
Sight: In & Of Itself — if a David Blaine Netflix feature was thoughtful. Watching a magic show through a screen feels…fake, but maybe that’s the whole point.
Hearing: Remembering SOPHIE, Architect of Future Pop. Great podcast that dives into SOPHIE’s legacy — we lost a producing legend too early 😭. This is the mentioned playlist that lists SOPHIE’s works (personal favorites: Lemonade, Faceshopping, 24 Hours, 9).
Smell: My likes on TikTok are full of perfumetok these days because I’m waiting for the moment I can freely smell perfumes sans mask. I miss smells so much.
Taste: Cut fruit. Recently my family has been into strawberry, dragonfruit, and watermelon.
Touch: Nursery shopping. Something about being around plants and feeling soil and leaves. 🍃☁️🌷
Advice Row
In which I do the opposite of giving advice, by taking advice from others.
This TikTok both activated a deep cut and reminded me of a very simple thing that our thoughts are not us and we can (for the most part) think whatever we like. Also, the simplest things made us happy when we were children and I miss that.
That’s all for now! I am flying back to Philly today and am looking forward to the change of scenery.
As a side note, I’ve started to collect my reading list in a Notion. If you’re ever curious about what I’m reading and what didn’t make the Substack cut, you can always check out the full list here.
Iris