Self-image is one of those things I'm constantly thinking about, that unending, internalized question of "how do you think others see you?" It's such a complicated mess of psychology, media consumption, and life experience that pondering it for too long usually leaves me sad and depressed. It's been on my mind a lot lately and I certainly have lots to say regarding it, but there's no way I could type out all my thoughts coherently and there's no way you'd sit and read all of it, so I'll try and make this short and sweet.
Hold on to your socks folks, because it's about to get real personal up in here.
I've never been a fan of the way I look. I don't feel compelled to smash mirrors or anything, but if I had the choice of picking my appearance before I was born like some video game character creation suite, the face I've got wouldn't have been the one I picked. And I think that's true for a lot of people; everyone wants to feel desired and everyone wants to feel beautiful/attractive. We convince ourselves life would be better if we were just a little more handsome, a little skinnier, if we had different eye or hair color, or any number of things. I'd rather not go on a long spiel about our culture's unrealistic beauty standards and the effect it has on people (especially women and girls) because everyone's heard that before. What I'd rather share with you is a little revelation I had recently regarding the whole subject.
I started to seriously ponder the concept of self-image in response to discussions I had with several of my female friends regarding how they perceive their own appearance. I have many friends who I think are beautiful in every sense of the word, and yet they do not see themselves this way. I couldn't fathom how that was possible, to hear them lament how they don't think they're attractive, but listening to them made me reflect on myself, and I came to the conclusion that I have the same attitude. I'm not at all content with my physical appearance, regardless of how insistent or reassuring other people may be. And like almost everyone else, the way I feel about how I look is the result of many years of life experience. It is never as simple as a binary "you're either hot or you're not" equation, and I'm pretty confident I know where my own image issues come from.
I was never popular with girls. My teenage years were awkward as fuck, and I never had a girl express any outward interest in me for a very, very long time. Sadly, this manifested into feelings of inadequacy and the belief that I was undesirable (but I should clarify that hasn't left me with any grudges, because that would make me a misogynistic asshole). After so many years of receiving little to no positive reinforcement (and I mean that in a strictly sexual/dating dynamic with the opposite sex), it's impossible not to internalize certain opinions about yourself, regardless of what people may end up saying to the contrary; a girl could spend hours telling me how attractive she thinks I am and be totally sincere about it, but it's hard to erase years of internalized self-loathing with only a few kind words. I'm fairly confident this is true for everyone, that if you spend years in scenarios and relationships that give you the impression you're not good enough, then soon you will believe it yourself. It becomes part of your reality, and it's hard to shake off.
And so what do we do? My solution was (and still is) to exercise excessively because I'm convinced that somehow, if my muscles get just a little bigger, suddenly that internal switch will turn on and I'll be "attractive" to the rest of the world. And at the end of the day, that's usually what fuels our drive to look better, isn't it? We want other people to think we look good, because it is through our relationships with others that we receive positive reinforcement and derive value. And so we starve ourselves, belittle ourselves, put ourselves on the scale everyday, measure every inch and every pound, exercise until we throw up (which I'm sad to admit I'm guilty of) all because we want to look attractive to others.
It was while reflecting on this while simultaneously considering both my own attitude and those of my female friends that I realized who we're actually trying to impress: ourselves.
I exercise to excess because I want to make myself physically attractive to others, but the standard to which I strive has been constructed by me. I have an image of what I want to look like that has been fueled by a lifetime of media consumption, and I foolishly believe that if I were to attain that vision of myself I would be significantly happier and people would look at me in a more favorable light.
And I realize it's total bullshit, and what's more depressing is that it's everywhere. I have friends that are absolutely beautiful and stunningly attractive, and yet the standards they hold themselves to are (like my own) both impossible to achieve, woefully unnecessary, and exist merely as an abstract concept.
We want to look desirable to "the rest of the world" and so we create ideals for ourselves, ideals that are built and reinforced by our past experiences and relationships based on what we think other people find attractive. We create an image of what we think beauty is and lament that we don't match it. And so even if the rest of the world is screaming at us that we're beautiful, we shake our heads because we still don't believe it. All of the self-doubt and negative reinforcement and unrealistic cultural standards maintain their grip on our brain.
Imagine two identical twins who are separated at birth. One goes on to have healthy relationships and is constantly loved, supported, and encouraged to believe they are beautiful. The other goes on to have relationships where they are left feeling undesirable, unattractive, and ugly. To the rest of the world they look exactly the same, but to themselves, they couldn't be more different. There are certainly multitudes of shallow individuals who have thinly veiled concepts of "what's-hot-and-what's-not" but like almost everything in life, the worst judge is yourself.
The face in the mirror is almost always the hardest to impress. It watches us our whole life, through all our failures and rejections, and its eyes are always waiting to scrutinize every perceived flaw and imperfection. It is the mind behind those eyes that judges us the worst, often criticizing us for the things we aren't instead of praising us for the things we are. I know I will never look exactly the way I want, and I have no doubt those feelings of inadequacy will follow me forever, regardless of whatever future relationships I may have and regardless of what others may insist to the contrary. Now that I've identified the source of those feelings, however, I feel slightly elated.
Because I know the rest of the world doesn't care too much about how I look, and the people that do care accept and love me for what I am. And that means out of the seven billion people on this little blue planet of ours, I only have one person left to convince:
Me.
Welcome to Luke's Thought Bubble
Tuesday 29 October 2013
Sunday 27 October 2013
Calm Yer Subjectivity, Mate . . .
I used to work in a video store a few years ago, and I also studied film and scriptwriting while at university and college. Needless to say, the extent of my post-secondary life has revolved heavily around movies. I love movies. I love their power to transport an audience to new worlds and new circumstances, to engage our mental processes in ways other mediums aren't able, and sometimes I just like watching giant robots beat the shit out of each other.
I have a problem though. It's not with movies, it's with audiences - particularly with modern audiences. I'm not sure if it's a result of my generation's affiliation with Internet culture and the funny things that does to our psychology, or maybe it's just the way peoples' minds work. My problem is when people confuse their subjective opinion with things that cannot be appreciated/categorized/defined by a single perspective.
This is getting a little abstract, so let me clear things up right now: I hate it when people claim a film is "terrible" or "bad" simply because they didn't like it.
I first began meditating on this issue after watching the film Atonement (2007), in which Keira Knightley, James McAvoy, and a young Saoirse Ronan run around being depressed and sad because of a lie Ronan's character tells. I admit the film is wonderfully shot and nicely acted, but personally, it didn't do it for me. It was just too damn depressing, and the ending didn't quite sit well with me. I was working at the aforementioned video store when the movie was released, so when people asked me whether it was good or not, I would tell them exactly how I felt: too depressing, gut-punch of an ending, all-in-all not the best thing to rent on a Saturday night.
I thought it was a bad film, plain and simple.
And then something happened that forever changed the way I perceive movies. My mom watched it, and she loved it. She connected with all the different elements that I didn't. And so I was left to ponder, "if someone likes a movie that I don't, is it still bad?"
Thus ignited within my brain was the simple idea that I always end up arguing online: just because you don't like something doesn't mean it's terrible. Probably the biggest example of this was the film Prometheus (2012), Ridley Scott's sorta-prequel to Alien (1979). A lot of people hated that movie, but me?
I loved it. Boy, how I loved it.
Scott had gone on record ahead of time saying that he wasn't making a direct prequel to the Alien Saga. Although the film would exist in the same universe, the tone, atmosphere, and general themes would be different. Yes, there would be similar elements, but otherwise he wanted it to be seen as a separate franchise.
And holy shit, did it end up pissing a lot of people off.
Hitler was received more favorably than this film. People all over the Internet were throwing feces at it like it was responsible for killing their childhood dog. Ridley Scott and screenwriter Damon Lindelof took a lot of heat for it. I've never in my life seen a film inspire so much rage.
And yet I loved it. I loved the visuals, the themes, and the tiny connections to the original franchise. Scott is a big fan of working religion into his films, and I was totally into that. He dared to ask a lot of existential questions regarding humanity and the nature of life, and even better, he didn't try to answer them outright. Multiple viewings only increase my appreciation. I truly sympathize with the characters, especially Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) who spends the film questioning her faith amidst the clusterfuck around her.
Not that there weren't a few issues. A few of the secondary characters were underdeveloped, and people were screaming bloody murder about supposed plot holes (which you can totally find explanations for online, FYI) but there was nothing that would make me think less of the film. I loved it, plain and simple.
And I got into a lot of fights about it.
My issue wasn't that people didn't like the film. That's totally fine. My issue was with people declaring the film was terrible because they didn't like it, as if their subjective opinion was a declaration of fact. I got into arguments where I was called a total moron for liking the film. I had arguments over Facebook where friends berated me endlessly, trying to convince me that I had somehow misinterpreted my own opinion. One friend spent a lengthy amount of time saying the character of Shaw was "totally unsympathetic" and yet when I told him that I sympathized with her, he still contested that I was wrong. Apparently I wasn't watching it right.
The point I kept endlessly trying (and still continue to try) to make is that just because something doesn't appeal to someone does not mean the thing in question is by its very nature a bad thing. It just means the person in question didn't like it. It would be one thing if everyone, everywhere, ever hated it, but that wasn't the case with Prometheus. There were critics who praised it (including Roger Ebert) and there were plenty of people who simply enjoyed it (or at least aspects of it) and there were people like me who truly loved it.
Movies these days seem to exist in a binary vacuum. Either they are good or they are bad - there is no middle ground. Either a film is universally loved, or total fucking garbage. The spectrum seems to be getting wider and wider, and I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's the sense of entitlement that walks hand-in-hand with Internet culture. I don't think you'd ever get into that kind of an argument in real life, because it's a lot more nerve-racking to call someone a total twat for liking a film when they're within slapping distance.
What do I hope to achieve with this? I don't know. I guess I'd like to call for a little bit more self-awareness on the part of us, the audience. Escape your own head space and try to stop seeing works of art (not just films) as black-and-white, awesome-or-terrible things that can only be defined by a single word. And please, for the love of Christ, stop acting like you are the supreme and total authority on everything. It's totally fine if you don't like something, but when you start to insult other people because YOU HAVE TO BE RIGHT ALL THE TIME then it might be high-time you take a break from the Internet.
And you can totally feel free to disagree with me . . . but there's a reason I don't have a comments section on this blog yet.
I have a problem though. It's not with movies, it's with audiences - particularly with modern audiences. I'm not sure if it's a result of my generation's affiliation with Internet culture and the funny things that does to our psychology, or maybe it's just the way peoples' minds work. My problem is when people confuse their subjective opinion with things that cannot be appreciated/categorized/defined by a single perspective.
This is getting a little abstract, so let me clear things up right now: I hate it when people claim a film is "terrible" or "bad" simply because they didn't like it.
I first began meditating on this issue after watching the film Atonement (2007), in which Keira Knightley, James McAvoy, and a young Saoirse Ronan run around being depressed and sad because of a lie Ronan's character tells. I admit the film is wonderfully shot and nicely acted, but personally, it didn't do it for me. It was just too damn depressing, and the ending didn't quite sit well with me. I was working at the aforementioned video store when the movie was released, so when people asked me whether it was good or not, I would tell them exactly how I felt: too depressing, gut-punch of an ending, all-in-all not the best thing to rent on a Saturday night.
I thought it was a bad film, plain and simple.
And then something happened that forever changed the way I perceive movies. My mom watched it, and she loved it. She connected with all the different elements that I didn't. And so I was left to ponder, "if someone likes a movie that I don't, is it still bad?"
Thus ignited within my brain was the simple idea that I always end up arguing online: just because you don't like something doesn't mean it's terrible. Probably the biggest example of this was the film Prometheus (2012), Ridley Scott's sorta-prequel to Alien (1979). A lot of people hated that movie, but me?
I loved it. Boy, how I loved it.
Scott had gone on record ahead of time saying that he wasn't making a direct prequel to the Alien Saga. Although the film would exist in the same universe, the tone, atmosphere, and general themes would be different. Yes, there would be similar elements, but otherwise he wanted it to be seen as a separate franchise.
And holy shit, did it end up pissing a lot of people off.
Hitler was received more favorably than this film. People all over the Internet were throwing feces at it like it was responsible for killing their childhood dog. Ridley Scott and screenwriter Damon Lindelof took a lot of heat for it. I've never in my life seen a film inspire so much rage.
And yet I loved it. I loved the visuals, the themes, and the tiny connections to the original franchise. Scott is a big fan of working religion into his films, and I was totally into that. He dared to ask a lot of existential questions regarding humanity and the nature of life, and even better, he didn't try to answer them outright. Multiple viewings only increase my appreciation. I truly sympathize with the characters, especially Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi Rapace) who spends the film questioning her faith amidst the clusterfuck around her.
Not that there weren't a few issues. A few of the secondary characters were underdeveloped, and people were screaming bloody murder about supposed plot holes (which you can totally find explanations for online, FYI) but there was nothing that would make me think less of the film. I loved it, plain and simple.
And I got into a lot of fights about it.
My issue wasn't that people didn't like the film. That's totally fine. My issue was with people declaring the film was terrible because they didn't like it, as if their subjective opinion was a declaration of fact. I got into arguments where I was called a total moron for liking the film. I had arguments over Facebook where friends berated me endlessly, trying to convince me that I had somehow misinterpreted my own opinion. One friend spent a lengthy amount of time saying the character of Shaw was "totally unsympathetic" and yet when I told him that I sympathized with her, he still contested that I was wrong. Apparently I wasn't watching it right.
The point I kept endlessly trying (and still continue to try) to make is that just because something doesn't appeal to someone does not mean the thing in question is by its very nature a bad thing. It just means the person in question didn't like it. It would be one thing if everyone, everywhere, ever hated it, but that wasn't the case with Prometheus. There were critics who praised it (including Roger Ebert) and there were plenty of people who simply enjoyed it (or at least aspects of it) and there were people like me who truly loved it.
Movies these days seem to exist in a binary vacuum. Either they are good or they are bad - there is no middle ground. Either a film is universally loved, or total fucking garbage. The spectrum seems to be getting wider and wider, and I'm not sure why. Perhaps it's the sense of entitlement that walks hand-in-hand with Internet culture. I don't think you'd ever get into that kind of an argument in real life, because it's a lot more nerve-racking to call someone a total twat for liking a film when they're within slapping distance.
What do I hope to achieve with this? I don't know. I guess I'd like to call for a little bit more self-awareness on the part of us, the audience. Escape your own head space and try to stop seeing works of art (not just films) as black-and-white, awesome-or-terrible things that can only be defined by a single word. And please, for the love of Christ, stop acting like you are the supreme and total authority on everything. It's totally fine if you don't like something, but when you start to insult other people because YOU HAVE TO BE RIGHT ALL THE TIME then it might be high-time you take a break from the Internet.
And you can totally feel free to disagree with me . . . but there's a reason I don't have a comments section on this blog yet.
Look Ma, I'm on the Internet!
Welcome to Luke's Thought Bubble, the place where I will be dumping the many things that pop into my head onto the Internet for the world to read. You will find a number of things here, from movie and game reviews, to rants about the things and people I dislike, to more philosophical and existential considerations.
I currently live in Ottawa and work as an editor on an animated children's show. My main passion is writing (although I've dabbled in music and film as well). I have written several books which I will soon be making available through this blog, so stay tuned!
I currently live in Ottawa and work as an editor on an animated children's show. My main passion is writing (although I've dabbled in music and film as well). I have written several books which I will soon be making available through this blog, so stay tuned!
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