In the unfortunate stage of my approaching adulthood where I am forced to apply for internships, I began building a portfolio of creative writing. The company I was applying to (who I will not name, as I am still waiting for a response from them), claimed they wanted to see any kinds of writing, from Notes app ramblings to finished pieces. It was the former that made me somewhat curious. I, of course, did not submit any of my Notes app thoughts in a professional portfolio, but I did include a few pieces that I was quite proud of that I think gave them a better look into my brain than any tear-soaked phone screen could possibly give.
Sunday, 4 January 2026
Why is everyone so damn performative?
It
makes me wonder, is that really what they want to see? There is a scene
in Dork Diaries (a childhood favourite) where she claims that no one
really has a diary anymore, and her ideal scenario would be publishing
her juicy secrets on an online blog that everyone wants to read. That
is, of course, implying that she has an audience. Nikki Maxwell,
however, is fictional, and in universe she is only writing for herself,
and not for any kind of audience: except, in one book, where Mackenzie
Hollister steals her diary and reveals she has actually been jealous of
Nikki's dorky, perfect life! Gasp! Anyway, I digress. Dork Diaries still
takes up a large part of my brain, and if the characters were mine
(and, you know, not fourteen), Mackenzie and Nikki would be kissing.
Unfortunately,
I realised I could never be an aesthetic girl (and, at a similar age,
realised I wasn't a girl), at about fourteen (Nikki Maxwell age!). This
was in the dreaded era of lockdown, where aesthetics like "cottagecore"
and "dark academia" permeated my young, impressionable brain. I was
desperate to be like the gorgeous girls on my screen, with their
homemade blackberry jam. Eventually, I realised I couldn't fit myself
into that box, and for a while, I didn't have a sense of identity, and I
lost interest in the thing I used to love.
These
days, I have tried to pick up as many hobbies that have made me happy,
and I have realised that while I may not be, you know, "good" at
anything in particular (except maybe writing), I still have something I
made at the end of it. I like to paint, I like to make air-dry clay
models, I love love love collage, I like to sing and dance badly: I am a
mosaic of everyone I have loved, and I am just that, a mosaic. I have
two tattoos, one of a blackberry vine on my ribcage, and the other of
Calvin and Hobbes on my shoulder. I can't pick a theme, and so, I remain
a patchwork of sewn together interests and thoughts.
Of
course, there's an element of performativity to everything. A
discussion with an ex (of two weeks... yikes), in which I asked, "if you
could be an object, what would you be?", revealed far too much about me. We were sat in the park near
our university drinking a bottle of wine, and I proudly stated that I
would be a tamagotchi. They asked me if I was going off an aesthetic
basis, or what basis to go off of, and then a long discussion ensued
where we both questioned whether we have any sense of self, and what to
base it on.
These
days, I don't think it matters that I don't really know who I am, and I
don't mind that I'm a bit performative. I am trying to build up myself
again, and this is through my art. I am trying to sit alone with my
thoughts. To bring it back to my Notes App, when my internship ask for
my Notes App ramblings they don't know it, but they are asking for
myself in my purest form, myself when there is no audience. Which, to be
clear, is way too much to ask from a simple internship. But I believe
that no one can really write like no one's reading. Even a diary has an
invisible reader. Even Nikki Maxwell's diaries were read eventually.
(Okay, enough about Nikki.)
People
are performative (as am I) because they wish to be witnessed. I write
in my Notes app, but when I can, I edit it to be able to post on my
private Instagram. When I write, I send my work to someone to read over,
in a subconscious means of getting praise. When I made my Wattpad
account at thirteen, all I really wanted was for my work to be read. In a
sense, I crave romance because I wish to be witnessed through someone
else's eyes. Is that unhealthy? I don't know. Probably. But aren't we
all.
Well,
that's what this blog is. Not quite a Notes App, not quite the
cottagecore experience of your dreams. Here, we have the inbetween.
Enjoy your stay.
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The desire to be witnessed (and know it) is very human.
ReplyDeletedeeply relatable and poignant ( and i do mean d e e p l y relatable), the throughline of personally significant childhood media really ties it all together- thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteI think we often forget that we are witnessed first by ourself. Even if you are performing, be on stage for you!
ReplyDeleteTrue! That's what I've been trying to do lately, live for myself. That's what this blog is, kinda! It's good to get my ramblings out there even if no one reads it
Delete"I can't pick a theme, and so, I remain a patchwork of sewn together interests and thoughts." I'm really struggling with my identity in regards to my interests and my "theme" lately, and reading that gave me the strongest emotional whiplash I've felt in a while, whew! Looove the Dork Diaries mention, those used to be some of my favorite books as a kid! Though I definitely did NOT get to the one in which Mackenzie reads Nikki's diary... This is making me want to gather all my Dork Diaries books and go through them again hahaha. Also, "I crave romance because I wish to be witnessed through someone else's eyes." is such a beautiful line, and I will be thinking about it for days to come. Can't wait to read more of your writing!
ReplyDeleteI came back checking your blog after the comment you left and then I found myself with the very topic I had in my mind recently. We all humans want to be witnessed. Why create if not to leave a mark that we were here. Thank you for sharing and let the blogging continue.
ReplyDeleteTrue! Humans are social creatures who want to be seen and appreciated, even if just by ourselves. Thank you for your lovely comment :)
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