Gatekeeping Our Lives

What’s gained from sharing a lie?

By Ashley Sudeta

Maybe I should transfer to Carlson because I’ve been marketing myself to others my whole life. By tweaking my words I try to make myself impressive, but non-threatening, relatable, but not raw. It’s second nature at this point. Honestly, I’d be surprised if anyone told me they’d never done this. In a time where human connection can be so difficult to achieve, it’s easy to find yourself clawing out for love, doing anything for a chance to keep clinging.

There’s a subconscious art to selling yourself. Frame the good traits just right—it’s important to look competent, but not arrogant. People hate to see others be successful. Gloss over the rough patches with humor because relatability is en vogue and anything that hurts can be turned into a gag. Most importantly, crop out anything uncomfortable that breaks the illusion. People are allowed to know I cried while watching “The Barbie Movie,” but they can’t find out I sobbed during a chemistry exam freshman year.

Whenever something slips through, I feel exposed. I’m like a fresh corpse viewed before the mortician could plug the wounds with wax. This wasn’t meant to be witnessed, you probably wish you could forget it. Don’t watch me fall apart, I’m only making you feel sick. But when I reflect on it, the revulsion is mine, not yours. I’m the one who’s uncomfortable. You’re staying and waiting while I flee.

Our fears tell us more about ourselves than anybody else. Through hiding parts of ourselves, those closest to us are pushed away and our genuine relationships are damaged. We deprive ourselves of opportunities to celebrate victories and be comforted at our lowest. Vulnerability hurts, but it's necessary to establish the connections we crave. We’re all just people, not characters or brands: we don’t need a PR campaign to be lovable.