I’ve been thinking about visibility lately.
Mainly, I think, because I exist in a perpetual back-and-forth of wanting to be seen and wanting to be hidden. Naturally, I’m happy to be in the foreground, taking the lead and enthusiastically weaving in and out of social situations and yet, even my extreme extroversion can’t satisfy my occasional longing for anonymity.
It comes in waves, and it aches.
Like the sudden feeling of needing a night in, a suffocated craving to escape the city or the quiet lure of turning your notifications off, the desire to be hidden feels acutely personal. In the hidden, audiences are dismissed and the act of relinquishing appearances is released in an audible sigh – or scream – depending on the day. As the lights start to dim, I sit alone on a stage facing no-one and think about how blissful it feels to be completely unobserved.
In this silence of solitude, I am on aeroplane mode. My heartbeat slows, my shoulders drop and my thoughts are unusually centred. There’s something about being unnoticed that feels like honey: endorphins are hitting, my body is breathing, expectations are disappearing.
Societally, we exist in an eternal fight to be visible. In this look-at-me lion’s den, showcasing the highlights of our lives is undeniably seductive; here’s what I ate! Here’s where I danced! Here’s what I achieved! Here’s what I wore! Here’s who I’m dating! Here’s what I did two years ago! Here’s what I’m about to do! Here’s what I’m thinking! This hunger for constant recognition, whether micro or macro, is insatiable and it lives in us all.
This focus on our desire to be seen is less of a criticism and more of an observation. I contemplate without judgement because one, I also feel it and two, it’s an involuntary response to the strange, social vortex that we live in today. In our trigger-happy world, the temptation to perpetually publicise significant and insignificant moments gives us a sense of belonging, a sense of validation, a sense of being alive. It’s satisfying to feel perceived because as long as we are visible, the belief that our daily movements matter is confirmed.
The more you share, the more others know and the more others know, the more opportunity there is for you to be praised, admired or sympathised with. As a result, we have entered into an age of micro-fame where the act of personal exposure is rewarded and advantageous. On one hand, this makes complete sense and on the other, it provokes a wrestle within me that winces at the undeniable profit of narcissism.
If there is such value in visibility, then those that don’t naturally gravitate towards the limelight – or those that do, but want to shun it for a while – are deemed less valuable. It’s an age-old social system on steroids: charisma, even when problematic or poorly motivated, is worshipped while gentleness and humility is ignored.
That means, that in your shyness or season of withdrawal, you are being subliminally told that you are less. In your already painful moments of struggle, or reflection, or deconstruction, or growth, you are being bombarded with the sting that incessant visibility amounts to superiority – and that you certainly aren’t riding that wave of favour.
When created with peace and security, slices of documentation feel precious, joyful and inviting. Online or offline, I love being a part of the small stories that complete a person’s narrative and it feels special to receive an insight into the big or small thoughts of another. However, when we lean too much into the lure of trading in the visibility currency, the balance can easily tip from authenticity into forced or manic oversharing – created only for the sake of this dead-end delusion of worth.
We cannot escape the circus of digital footprints or popularity contests judged by the loudest presence but we can ground ourselves back to the truth. It’s possible that for today, or for tomorrow, or for the next year, you may have nothing you want to publicly say or present. In those moments, remember that contrary to what you are told, there is beauty and rest and strength in the hidden.
The world will be waiting to receive you, whenever you’re ready to be visible again.