Scrolling through Facebook the other day, I came upon the latest
“challenge” circulating among the masses: “Find five pictures of yourself
that make you feel beautiful.” Now I’m as much of a sucker for feel-good
Facebook moments as the next person (bring on that ice bucket), but this one
gave me pause.
Don’t get me wrong: I firmly believe that beauty is more than
skin-deep, that we should celebrate our inner beauty, that we’re all beautiful
in our own way….yadda yadda yadda…But aren’t most of our Facebook photos
already the cream of the crop? (Surely I’m not the only one who makes sure any
picture I post of myself—or allow myself to be tagged in—is reasonably
flattering??) So isn’t this merely a pretext to cull through our photos and
pull out the ones that make us look even younger, thinner, and more attractive?
Talk about a narcissistic game sure to lead to even more self-esteem issues
than we’re already dealing with. Not to mention that the people who’d most
benefit from this sort of challenge are probably the least likely to accept it.
That becomes infinitely clear when I visit the Facebook page of
suburban mom Kara Cantwell (no, that’s not her real name, but she boasts a
similarly melodious moniker). In her early 40s with long, golden-blonde hair,
bleached white teeth, and a store-bought, Barbie-like figure, Kara eagerly rose
to this challenge—with the caveat that the photos she loves the most “are with
my husband and kids!” And to her credit, they mostly are—except for the first,
where she lounges on a couch, her unblemished, mile-long legs front and center
in what I’m willing to wager is an outtake of a modeling shoot. Beautiful? Yup.
In photo #2, devoted husband kisses Kara, who beams at the camera. Photo #3:
Kara flaunts her yoga-toned figure on vacation with her husband. Photo #4:
Buxom Kara wears a tiara while posing with hubby again. By photo #5 (starring
the lovely Kara, hubby and three gorgeous kids), I’m whining “Marcia, Marcia,
Marcia!” in my best Jan Brady voice.
Kara Cantwell is seemingly the last person on earth who needs to
partake in this particular challenge. She doesn’t feel beautiful
in all her photos—she looks beautiful!
Ugh!
Except that’s not Kara’s friends’ reaction at all. She’s tagged
18 of them, under the guise of encouraging them to join the challenge. Let me
just clarify: That means 18 people were sent a direct link to her dazzling
photos. Could she be more obvious? Maybe if she hit them over the head with a
bat until they said nice things she could... Yet her friends are clearly
over-the-moon at being called out, as more than a dozen return the favor with
syrupy-sweet compliments. (I can only hope that the remaining five were
cringing at her shameless self-promotion.) I kid you not, here’s how they
go:
“[Kara], you are so beautiful!”
Kara responds: “[Friend], you are too!”
And then other friends join in:
“Beautiful friend, inside and out.”
"Inside and out, shows through."
“Love all your photos. You ARE beautiful!”
“Love.”
“Beautiful in so many ways.”
And the piece de resistance: “Before I read all
the above comments, I was also going to write that you are beautiful inside
& out. So you must be if we all agree!!! Love you!”
Kara Cantwell is probably a lovely woman (both inside and out!),
but all of this fawning over her seems excessive. It’s a Kara & Friends
love fest that makes the rest of us feel left out—like we’re peeking into the
window of a slumber party we weren’t invited to. It’s cliquey and
exclusive—whether intentional or not. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I
don’t even know Kara. A friend showed me her post. But I still feel like the
odd woman out!
I read a study recently that said that people actually feel worse about themselves and more dissatisfied with their lives after going on Facebook. No duh. In the virtual world, we’re all on permanent vacation and our children are perpetually portrait-perfect. So do we really need another excuse to promote ourselves? Are we really that insecure that we need affirmation—from dozens of friends--of just how beautiful we are? A friend of mine likens it to posing the question, “Am I gorgeous—or just really pretty?” It’s fishing for compliments, and that’s distasteful. Sure enough, when I look back at Kara’s page a day later, another comment has been added: “One of these days we will have a conversation about how your hair always looks so nice, even at drop-off.” Really? REALLY? Virtual brown-nosing is just as annoying as it is in real life—only more obvious.
