Eat, think, love

I had an interesting conversation with a friend a while back. It was about social media and how we cultivate images of ourselves. This isn’t a new discussion. There are tons of angles to it, how the internet makes us lonely, how Facebook can lead to depression, how everything we see is a carefully choreographed version of real life. This video explains it best.

In case you didn’t click on it, the video shows a week in the life of Scott Thompson. It shows what is actually going on in his life vs how he depicts those events on Facebook, and how he is egged on by ‘likes’. Facebook Scott has a fun, vibrant, wonderful life. Offline Scott, not so much.

I don’t generally give this concept much thought, because I’ve always considered myself very authentic. In my head, I present myself exactly as I am. But then again, everyone thinks that. Few people deliberately set out to create a certain image of themselves. At least not consciously.

Yet even as I type that, I’m reminded of a quote I read in blog post. I forget the exact words, but it said everybody creates an image of themselves. Some people even create the image of not creating an image. Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? Until you find yourself typing something like this *pointing*

Kachumbari na chai

When I posted that update, I was trying to be tongue-in-cheek. Trying to show I’m really NOT the kind of girl that does salads, but admitting that I’d eaten one for breakfast all the same. It’s almost a kind of reverse-bragging. And while it wasn’t intended that way, it came out as a not-so-subtle insult to girls that eat salad. Also, I edited that update five times before I finally hit ‘post’.

My next sentence was going to be, ‘Now … I have nothing against salads, but …’ And that would be dishonest. Because I struggle with weight. And although I rarely eat kachumbari salads, I routinely stop eating before I’m full. I’ve trained myself to survive on half of what I want to eat, and as a result, I’ve lost 10 kilos in six months.

Of course human beings – being human beings – only see me on the days I order two-for-one pizza, or have a big bowl of noodles and sausages for breakfast. Workmates make snide comments on my diet. One claims I eat like a pig but never gain an inch. A girl said every time she looks at me, I have something in my mouth. A boy I had a crush on said I’m the only girl he knows that is constantly eating. He also said he loves to watch me eat…

What these three don’t know is after one pizza binge, I can go the next three days on black tea and two slices of bread. So for me, that update about salad and kachumabri was choreographed on lots of different levels, none of which I even noticed. I was a landmartian for a while, and I remember being told that knowing something makes no difference. Take these rules for guys. Not to be confused with these rules for … guys? *pointing*

Mama rules

The second rule says just because your man is checking out another girl doesn’t mean he’s going to leave you for her. According to the rules, it doesn’t even mean he’s going to sleep with her. The rules may be true, and they may even make sense, but it doesn’t make them any less annoying to the girls. Le sigh.

So knowing that my image is not having an image … doesn’t stop me from nurturing it. And knowing that I sometimes publicise embarrassing things just so I appear to be ‘real’ may not stop me doing it. And saying I’m ashamed to have eaten a (huge) bowl of salad doesn’t make my struggles with weight (loss) any less torturesome. Yes, it’s a word. Because I said so. And, yes, I did follow up my salad with a large bar of chocolate. Because I like being seen as a girl that gorges large bars of chocolate.

I once heard this generation described as one that  f*cks in public and eats in private. It was a commentary on thigh gaps and eating disorders. I think we’re also a generation that has perfected role-play. Because while social media has made it easier to hide who we are, people have been doing it offline for years. If you met the same person at school, at work, and at their in-laws, you’d swear they were schitzophrenic.

I think it’s just human nature to blame things. We blame tardiness and dishonesty on mobile phones. We shame digital devices for urban solitude. We  fault sexual violence on fashion. We say kids are immoral and fat because of TV. We forget that long before mini skirts, microchips, or McDonalds, people still did bad things, simply because they chose to. I guess technology just makes our flaws easier to see.

And on that note, I’m off to have some chicken steeped in mushroom sauce and butter, followed by hot chocolate and ice cream. After which I will seriously consider not eating for three whole days.

I see fire ♫ Ed Sheeran ♫

Redefining friendship

A good friend once told me there are levels of friendship. He said he has Level 1 friends that he would give his life for, Level 2 friends that he keeps in touch with social reasons, and Level 3 friends that are barely acquaintances, but he plays his role to keep up appearances. I immediately wondered what level I was on, but I was too scared to ask. I suppose if I needed to ask, then I knew the answer already.

We were having the conversation because I’d had a falling out with someone very dear to me, and as a result, he had cut me off completely. He blocked me on social media, stopped taking my calls, ignored my texts and emails, and pretty much behaved as if I didn’t exist. The worst thing was he didn’t even tell me what I had done wrong. For about a week, I apologized non-stop, without really knowing what I was sorry for. At the end of the week, he sent me an email telling me why he was upset with me, asking me to get out of his life, and reminding me of situations when I had similarly banished people from mine. I cried for three days.

Thing is … I don’t have levels of friendship. In fact, I often say I have no friends at all. I suppose it’s because I have a warped definition of friendship, and I don’t know anyone that fits inside the little box I’ve labelled ‘friend’. Lately though, I’ve had some people come into my life. One was a platonic admirer that had tried to meet me for years and I refused because he scared me. The other is a friend I adored in high school, and I’m so happy she’s back in my life. I’m immensely grateful for them both, because they do fit in my Friend Box.

Ghost friends

I do have a different box called ‘could have been a friend’. It’s kind of like ‘could have been a love story‘. It’s basically people I think are really cool, but I’m happy to admire them from afar. Because when you meet people and dispel the image you have of each other, it becomes awkward and sad. I know, I’ve been down that road a few times.

So nowadays when I meet a cool person, I put them in the CHBF box so I can take them out and admire them once in a while without initiating direct contact. Social media is a good place to do that, to watch and marvel unseen. In the real world, following people around, giggling at their jokes, celebrating their successes and silently sharing their pain (all without them ever knowing it) could get you arrested. The funny thing is there are people I’ve actually met and interacted with who still end up in the CHBF box, because I don’t want to burst the bubble.

There’s also a different kind of friend. People who I see once a year and barely call, but they mean the world to me. They don’t know, because we don’t see each other often, but I would literally drop everything for them. I don’t know how to tell these people how important they are because it would seem weird. Sometimes I don’t even realise how much I care until I bump into them.

When someone like that is in trouble, I jump to do what I can in a way that is so out of character it even surprises me. I did that recently. I wanted to be there for that person, but I didn’t know how, because we hadn’t spoken in years. So I sent a text and a gift, and hoped it somehow conveyed everything I felt. I’d like to deepen the friendship and spend more time together, but there are so many things in the way, and I can only put them back into the box.

Friend box

Here’s the thing though. I realised that this person is my friend because we care for each other and help each other out. We might rarely talk or hang out, but we both know that when help is needed, we can rely on one another. And if I look at friendship that way, then I have so many more than I thought I did, pretty labelled boxes notwithstanding.

People can surprise you. Human nature is so changeable that sometimes the people you trust can let you down at your worst. But then other people show up, people you didn’t expect at all. So maybe your friend isn’t the person you talk to every day and have lunch with every week. Maybe your friend is the person who sees you in a  jam and says, ‘I’m here. Tell me how I can help.’ Friends are not just the people that are always there with you. They’re the ones that will be there when you call them, the ones you enjoy when you see them, even if you barely see them at all. They’re the people you trust enough to ask for help, but they’re also the people that help before you ask. Actions, words, all that jazz.

The funny thing with friendships (and relationships) is we all know what we expect from them. When our expectations are not met, we feel the person doesn’t really care for us. But people show care in different ways, and maybe we need to learn to recognise and accept love – both romantic and platonic – when it’s offered. Maybe I just have to be willing to call these dear people ‘friend’.

friends_036

In my life, I don’t think friendship should have levels, just different languages, different forms, periods, and frequencies of expression. Of course most people don’t define friendship at all. They just live. And I suppose the fact that I just spent 1000 words explaining a word that I claim has no place in my life … says more about me than it does about them. Still, to all my special people … I don’t know if you’ll all read this, but I just want to say … thank you for being my friends.

You and me ♫ Lifehouse ♫