Fiona Apple
I think Fiona Apple would be bummed out by what I’m about to say but proud of me for saying it.
Being a content creator has made me a lot less cool and I’ll tell you why.
It was Fiona Apple’s birthday on Friday so in her honor, I rewatched all of her music videos and the iconic 1997 VMA’s acceptance speech when she told the audience to “Go with yourself.” I was born in 1997 and although I wasn’t named after her, she became especially relevant to me as she popularized my Gaelic name.
I think Fiona Apple would be bummed out by what I’m about to say but proud of me for saying it.
I’m not as cool now that I’m a content creator because I am constantly surveying what other girls are doing on social media. I think, “Okay, we’re taking pictures horizontally again, we’re pressing out our bottom lip in a pout instead of doing the outdated “kissy face.” My feed should look way more casual than it does quite frankly. I shouldn’t use hashtags or captions on TikTok because that looks “try hard.” I should be able to go viral for just showing my outfit lazily. It’s so lame that I talk to the camera in my car, making “how tos” when other girls don’t even have to try. They’re that pretty.”
I had a terrifying realization the other day that a lot of my brain capacity is consumed by trying to figure out what’s cool, what’s trending, what’s getting likes and brands in inboxes, asses in seats instead of following what my intuition is telling me is cool.
I felt like I needed social media rehab when I questioned the other day whether going to the beach as much as I do is social media “cool.” I thought I should appear edgier online. This is when I knew I needed rehab, I made the plan that as we transition to fall I would slightly rebrand and try to come across as…sexier? Or more mysterious? Post emo selfies laying in my bed with lip liner and eye liner, wear darker clothing, go out to dive bars instead of watching sunset. I shouldn’t seem so bubbly and sunny on Instagram, that’s basic. I suddenly resented the color of my hair, I wish it wasn’t so bright. I stalked Gracie Abrams on Instagram and thought FUCK. If only I was skinny and tall with a brunette bob and a gap between my two front teeth. I want to look like anyone else but myself.
I remember being on the soccer field in middle school and seeing this older girl practicing on the opposite half. She had a dark tan from the summer and wore her soccer shorts slung low at her waist, unrolled as they touched the tops of her knees. If you played soccer in middle school you know that rolling your shorts was all the rage. I noticed her, and thought “That’s so cool, I’m gonna do that.” That moment subconsciously swirls around the back of my brain and then surfaces when I contemplate if I truly have a strong sense of self. Am I doing things because they feel intuitively right and good to me? Or am I perpetually focused externally, simply detecting things that are cool or could be mainstream cool, and then implementing them myself?
I am 27 years old and I am absolutely fucking CONFUSED because of social media. That’s me introducing myself at social media rehab. While I know it’s an impactful tool, and I’m lucky to have a platform, a place to express myself, I even gained a few Substack followers because of it, it confuses me. Deeply. To get grounded I conducted my own at-home treatment. I ran through some things that I know I like because I like them, not because they’re attached to some intention of gaining attention.
I know I genuinely like SZA and Doja Cat and Doechii. I know I like documentaries because they keep my attention and I naturally gravitate towards them. I know I like autobiographies and 90s romcoms, and musky scents and sandwiches and Cape Cod chips and hoop earrings and sleeping late. I know I like oversized crew neck sweatshirts, and lemonade and Mexican food. I know I like getting into Wikipedia holes where I start with one search, and then click on other hyperlinked subjects for hours. I like psychology, sociology, Mel Robbins, Malcolm Gladwell, friends who make me laugh, friends who think I’m funny.
Maybe I should save this for rehab but I don’t know if I’ve ever genuinely been my true, authentic self. Because I’m always trying to please someone. My parents, my teachers, my coaches, my friends, my peers, professors, bosses, clients, the internet. Is this how everyone feels? I think my genuine self is way more outspoken, louder, and more selfish than this. Is anyone expressing their truest self? Probably not, because that’s really gonna piss some people off. We hold back in order to be liked and respected and invited and hired and desired. That’s life, that’s society.
So no, I don’t feel like myself, right now. And yes I’m getting my period. Which as you can imagine makes this all 10 times more confusing.