Sharing Our Lives Beyond the Keyhole

Some time ago, I read an article that compared our observing other people's lives via social media to seeing someone's life through a keyhole; we have a very limited perspective of what actually goes on in that person's life, and by and large those observations are of positive events (marriages, births, new jobs, moves, etc.).

In thinking about what it means to be authentic, I recognize that true authenticity means sharing the not-so-good along with the good.  When we "keep it real," we tarnish the façade of a perfect life and remove the possibility of even creating that notion in the first place.  In cultural studies, we often talk about how the abnormal is only defined as such by its relationship to the invisible, unmentioned "normal"--the diseased in relation to the healthy.

When we make our struggles less private, we make them less powerful.  My logic in this is twofold.  Firstly, oftentimes our experience of suffering is tied to some sense of denial.  If we keep the struggles a secret, they seem less real to us.  It allows us to keep from acknowledging the true condition of our lives.  Secondly, we usually cling to a lengthy set of assumptions regarding how people will view our diseases (which, in itself is a word rife with negative meaning).  We give in to the idea that we are abnormal, and hence reinforce that "abnormality" by separating ourselves from "normal" people and hiding the suffering we endure.

For the past few years, I know that I've begun to increasingly hide out in my suffering.  My mind goes through a similar script: "They just won't understand," "I'm different than people my age," "I'm weird," "I don't want to deal with all the questions," "It's easier to just stay away."

Additionally, I think that for me hiding out is a way of ignoring my real circumstances.  I think back to how life was 5 years ago, 3 years ago.  Since I'm not happy with how things are going now, hiding allows me to distract myself from what's going on and save the need to give a lot of explanations to people, even those I once considered myself close to.

But, lately I've been thinking about how stupid it is to hide what's going on in my life--to attach all these negative meanings and beliefs to things that are, truly, so small in the grand scheme of things.

By keeping it real, I can share things like:

• I take 32 various pills/capsules throughout the day (mostly vitamins and supplements).
• There is a list of something like 30 specific foods/food groups I cannot eat.
• I've gained 30 pounds in the past year and 9 months because of thyroid and reproductive hormone imbalances.
• Many people my age are married with kids and a mortgage, but I had to move in with my parents because living on my own almost killed me.

There is something powerful about making these truths un-private, and acknowledging the reality of my circumstances.  By saying, "Yes, this is my life.  This is just the way it is," I think I somehow take a little more control of what's going on, and it removes all those voices telling me I'm weird, different, abnormal.  It empowers me to make changes where I can, and in cases where I can't, to recognize that my diseases place certain limitations on my life but none that make me need to isolate myself from other people.

About 6 months ago, at a particularly dark moment in my autoimmune experience, after reading that article on social media and keyholes, I wrote a haiku entitled "My Grass Isn't Greener."

What if my keyhole

Didn't entice the viewer

Filled with emptiness

The reality is that each of us struggles and suffers.  We all encounter trials and tribulations.  None of us is perfect, and I think most of us experience feelings of being abnormal and not belonging.

So what if instead of sharing with one another only our keyholes, we share with one another our lives beyond those very limited views?  What if we become truly authentic, and keep it real by owning up to what's really going on in our lives?

I wish we lived in a world where the focus wasn't so much on fitting in, but on being as genuine as we could possibly be.  I know that the plastic bodies, veneer smiles, and hot cars will never go away.  But it's nice to envision a place where people feel free to share their not-so-good parts, and those not-so-good parts are viewed no differently than the "good" parts.

I wish we could see one another holistically.  I wish we didn't have to live in fear of one another.