what does it mean to be known pt. 1
Your close friend stories? Yeah, I actually never read those”.
Loyal to my dramatic antics, I reacted way more surprised than I actually was. And the reassurance of a nearby friend was the perfect excuse to brush it off — I didn’t want to kill the vibes of the Zoom meeting. It meant nothing, I told myself right away.
However, the next morning, when the Instagram algorithm showed me a way too relatable post yet again, I gotta admit I thought twice before sharing the post on my close friend stories. And my morning was spent wandering on this thought: why did I care so much? It was just a relatable text, right?
As usual, an omnisapient presence knew what I was worrying about. (Yes, sadly I’m talking about Instagram). And on yet another relatable post, I found a concept that gave shape to my walltext-sharing habits:
the mortifying ordeal of being known
And yes, I’m aware that, at this point, this phrase is already a meme. I want to think that it’s because after two years of isolation and lack of significant social interaction in person (or maybe it’s just me?), we can all understand how deep this line cuts:
If we want the rewards of being loved, we must submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.
Also, if you don’t know where this is from, you can read the original essay here — and the herd of goats is explained in this interview, I know, right?
Because we all want to feel like we belong, we all want to be loved for who we really are, or for who we THINK we really are. But how can we really be authentically loved if we are so afraid of showing who we really are?
Just to make this point clear: it’s not bad or wrong to try to keep a facade, I’d even argue that we are ultimately shaped by who do we pretend to be. My point is that there is a moment where you finally feel loved, and you feel like you belong. If you are not actually known, wouldn’t you feel then that you’re not actually loved? How can you be loved if they only know who you pretend to be? This is why I hate the concept of cringe, but this is a topic for another time.
On the other hand, how can you be sure that you are actually known? It’s not easy to be authentic to yourself, especially if you’re going through your quarter-life crisis. This reminds me of a beautiful quote on one of the most relatable articles I’ve read recently (you can read it here, and I wholeheartedly advise you do so):
There’s a disconnect from within and a lack of authenticity; one that doesn’t come from a place of malice or an intent to deceive but simply that, inside is a confused soul that is masked with a thin veneer of “I have got it together”. Most peers can’t tell the difference between who is operating with authenticity and who isn’t, not least because they’re usually going through the same struggle themselves.
Its not bad to not feel authentic all the time, especially at this age. That’s what this age is all about!
And sooner or later we will all go through that phase of unlearning that failure is the end of the world. And we all will go through the process of breaking our masks and just stop being afraid of enjoying things, and being enthusiastic over them! I guess that what I’m trying to say is that I cannot spare the time of worrying about being cringe-worthy anymore. But it would be a little more bearable if we all went through it together.
Because, having close friends to share this process with? (even if unknowingly). That is all we can aspire to have. And maybe that is all we need. Once a friend told me that it’s not even talking about it what counts, even having someone to talk about something else and forget your worries can go a long way.
“We can talk about it if you want. And if you don’t, we can talk about something else, so you can take your mind off it”
Wise philosopher, I guess
the tunnel
There’s some inherent danger to our desperate need to relate to something, to someone else. (At this point, you might as well read all we’s as I’s). Deep down, we all want to connect, we all want to be known as how we think we really are. There’s a short novel from Ernesto Sábato, El túnel, that may help you to understand better this concept. In this novel, a painter is obsessed over a woman who is the only one who notices a little detail of his painting, a woman looking to the sea out a window. I won’t give spoilers, but he sees life as going through a dark tunnel, and feels that finding someone to relate to means that she is also going through a parallel tunnel. But he’s so obsessed over his idealization of the woman who understood that detail on his painting, that he burdens her with all his expectations and insecurities, and ends up killing her. (Not a spoiler, this is explained literally on the first page).
Was it wrong to try to relate to someone who noticed something that meant a lot to you? Absolutely not. The problem was thinking that just because someone relates to you, that means that you are linked by some deep rooted connnection. Juan Pablo Castel didn’t know why Maria related to his painting, he just assumed that they were soulmates off that one little interaction. (Also he’s a sociopath and a creep, seriously, don’t do anything he would).
So perhaps that’s where I was wrong? I hope I didn’t come across as another Castel off my need to share relatable textposts. I guess I just thought that I could risk the cringe to be known a little more. Last weekend, unexpectedly, I realized why I enjoyed those little pieces of text.
After witnessing a korean music dance event, I wound up wondering: what is the charm will all the k-pop hype? It was an honest question, don’t get me wrong — I wanted to understand what was it on the k-pop that moved so many people, how dance is a way to express something you cannot say with words. At risk of offending any BTS fans reading this, isn’t it true that you cannot fully enjoy one of their songs without also watching its dance moves? (I may be wrong tho, so please army, don’t send me death threats).
And is that not why we all keep looking for ways to express what can’t be said with words?
Like it was for the tragic Juan Pablo Castel, it could be a small detail on a painting, a certain song or artist, or even a taste or a smell.
For me, those were little quotes from a cookie on the interwebs. And I love and cherish those little pieces of text — perhaps because those are the words I didn’t know I wanted to say?
And for a little moment, you see through a glass on the darkness and you find somebody walking on another tunnel parallel to yours. Someone that, in some twisted way, is not aware of your life or your struggles, but understand how does it feel walking through them. And somehow, it makes it a a little more bearable.
