As a writer and a memoirist (albeit not a famous one by any stretch of the imagination), I thoroughly enjoyed your ruminations on all of this. I do think that there is something inside of us that wants to connect with people who share some beliefs or characteristics with us (I am a white feminist who used to live in the same Pacific NW town as Lindy and saw her speak in person a few times and it was thrilling to think that we had things in common). And, sadly, I think that in our minds, we begin to create stories about all of the things that extrapolate from those thin connections - "well, Lindy would certainly feel the same way I do about X" - because we want (need? desperately crave?) that sense of belonging via confirmation bias. So when we discover that there is something fundamentally different about the way they think or live their life, those of us who haven't spent a lot of time practicing unconditional positive regard begin to feel betrayed or misled. It is a strange phenomenon that we either get angry or feel as though there is something "wrong" with that person that we now need to offer them advice to fix ("get divorced, Lindy!") rather than slowing down to realize that it is possible for us to witness someone else's story and identify deeply with parts of it while having other parts of it feel alien or frightening or downright "wrong," and still have affection for them and see them as worthy of our admiration. That was a lot of words, but clearly, you can see how this post struck a chord with me. ;-)
So grateful for this reflection, and it feels like an important addition to the conversation here. I love the presence to pause and notice what you’re putting onto a stranger and what lesson might be there for you. I realize that the unexamined version of those emotions often create some real messes (and must be really tough for legitimately famous people), but in a different light it makes me very optimistic. There’s something there… in that drive for connection, in all the feelings towards and for another person that we often put into the relative void of parasociality… that could help grow something really beautiful in our immediate relationships. I think you highlighted a really important reflective exercise to help unlock it.
No one who experiences me para-socially here will be surprised to find that I have THOUGHTS about Lindy West's marriage and memoir, even though I haven't read the latter and even though I have officially eschewed the institution of the former. But I have been married, and that marriage was plagued with trouble related to polyamory (and my ex being an asshole). And I have been in successful poly relationships subsequently. So, yeah, I have THOUGHTS.
But I also had thoughts about Hilary Clinton's marriage (Still do. Fuck that guy.), long before the internet really existed for most of us. I think anytime any woman puts her marriage into the public discourse, or holds it up as goals in any way, women, especially, take that relationship personally. Is it right for us to do that? Probably not. But because women are so defined by our relationships, particularly the status of our romantic relationships, and we are also treated as a monolith (like all oppressed groups) we are downstream of any and all public perceptions of any woman. It's not fair, but it's true.
Lindy gets to make her own choices, whatever I may think about them. But the perception of her choices does potentially effect my life as a single woman contemplating whether or not to pursue romantic relationships and what structure might work. I wish that weren't the case. I wish I felt better about her choices. I wish I didn't want to reach through the screen and bitch slap her husband. But here we are.
For whatever it's worth, this is the sum total of what I will ever say about Lindy West's marriage, anywhere, ever again. "If you can't say something nice" feels appropriate.
As a writer and a memoirist (albeit not a famous one by any stretch of the imagination), I thoroughly enjoyed your ruminations on all of this. I do think that there is something inside of us that wants to connect with people who share some beliefs or characteristics with us (I am a white feminist who used to live in the same Pacific NW town as Lindy and saw her speak in person a few times and it was thrilling to think that we had things in common). And, sadly, I think that in our minds, we begin to create stories about all of the things that extrapolate from those thin connections - "well, Lindy would certainly feel the same way I do about X" - because we want (need? desperately crave?) that sense of belonging via confirmation bias. So when we discover that there is something fundamentally different about the way they think or live their life, those of us who haven't spent a lot of time practicing unconditional positive regard begin to feel betrayed or misled. It is a strange phenomenon that we either get angry or feel as though there is something "wrong" with that person that we now need to offer them advice to fix ("get divorced, Lindy!") rather than slowing down to realize that it is possible for us to witness someone else's story and identify deeply with parts of it while having other parts of it feel alien or frightening or downright "wrong," and still have affection for them and see them as worthy of our admiration. That was a lot of words, but clearly, you can see how this post struck a chord with me. ;-)
So grateful for this reflection, and it feels like an important addition to the conversation here. I love the presence to pause and notice what you’re putting onto a stranger and what lesson might be there for you. I realize that the unexamined version of those emotions often create some real messes (and must be really tough for legitimately famous people), but in a different light it makes me very optimistic. There’s something there… in that drive for connection, in all the feelings towards and for another person that we often put into the relative void of parasociality… that could help grow something really beautiful in our immediate relationships. I think you highlighted a really important reflective exercise to help unlock it.
Brother I had to stop and write down "simulacra of relationships" in my journal and noodle on that for a minute LOL
No one who experiences me para-socially here will be surprised to find that I have THOUGHTS about Lindy West's marriage and memoir, even though I haven't read the latter and even though I have officially eschewed the institution of the former. But I have been married, and that marriage was plagued with trouble related to polyamory (and my ex being an asshole). And I have been in successful poly relationships subsequently. So, yeah, I have THOUGHTS.
But I also had thoughts about Hilary Clinton's marriage (Still do. Fuck that guy.), long before the internet really existed for most of us. I think anytime any woman puts her marriage into the public discourse, or holds it up as goals in any way, women, especially, take that relationship personally. Is it right for us to do that? Probably not. But because women are so defined by our relationships, particularly the status of our romantic relationships, and we are also treated as a monolith (like all oppressed groups) we are downstream of any and all public perceptions of any woman. It's not fair, but it's true.
Lindy gets to make her own choices, whatever I may think about them. But the perception of her choices does potentially effect my life as a single woman contemplating whether or not to pursue romantic relationships and what structure might work. I wish that weren't the case. I wish I felt better about her choices. I wish I didn't want to reach through the screen and bitch slap her husband. But here we are.
For whatever it's worth, this is the sum total of what I will ever say about Lindy West's marriage, anywhere, ever again. "If you can't say something nice" feels appropriate.