Behind-the-Scenes vs. Highlight Reel

One of my favorite and most-resonating quotes is: "The reason we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind-the-scenes with everyone else's highlight reel." 

 

Most of what we see (and post) on social media is the "highlight reel":  The happy, positive parts of our lives that we choose to share with our friends, family, and acquaintances.  Our newsfeeds are constantly filled with pictures of smiling babies, kissing spouses, nights out with friends.  We tag each other in check-in statuses, reminding ourselves, and our wider social network, that we have fun lives and plenty of friends.   We write flirty notes on our partners' walls, not so much for the benefit of the recipient, but so that we can broadcast publicly how happily in love we are.  

We know - intellectually - that these "highlight reels" portrayed on Facebook do not paint the whole picture.  All of us who post these things also have "behind-the- scenes" parts of life, which are not often publicly displayed.  Those cute babies sometimes are up all night screaming. Those kissing couples might bicker about what to make for dinner, or spend their nights sitting on opposite couches, immersed in their own technology of choice.  And we're not very likely to "check in" with our location on the nights we spend at home by ourselves watching Netflix. 

We scroll through our newsfeeds and look at our friends' "highlight reels", while we're living in our own "behind-the-scenes".  This sets the stage for feelings of inferiority and inadequacy.  We might lament the fact that "everyone else" is tying the knot, buying houses, popping out kids, making new friends, getting promotions, going on vacations, hitting fitness milestone, etc. etc. etc.  Looking at others' highlight-reels has the potential to make us feel like we are worse off than our peers, which can lead to jealousy and resentment if left unchecked.

 

I'm part of an intentional group of women who all take time from various busy schedules to meet on Wednesdays.  The first thing we do each week is share our highs and lows - our highlight reels AND our behind-the scenes.  Listening to my friends be vulnerable and authentic about what is REALLY going on in their lives is incredibly important in reminding me that no one's behind-the-scenes life is as perfect as it might seem from the "highlight reel".  It's a good reminder that EVERYONE has things going on, good and bad, a full-spectrum of highs and lows and in-the-middles.  The women in my group celebrate one another's achievements, respond to one another's crises, and appreciate one another's mundanes.  

Through this group and through other friendships and conversations, I am reminded to keep in check my tendency to enviously compare my life to the lives of others.  Despite perceived appearances, no one's life is actually composed exclusively of highlight-reels.  No one has it all together.  Everyone's life has a less glamorous side, even those whose highlight-reels we covet.  

Next time I find myself scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed, wistful or intrigued or even jealous of others' situations, I hope I remember that although mine might be different from theirs, I also have a highlight-reel that is pretty amazing. Playing the comparison game is a breeding ground for feelings of inadequacy, which don't do anything positive for anyone.  The truth is that we all have highs and lows and ups and downs, so instead of comparing, let's value one another and hold each other up.  Let's celebrate each other in highlight-reel times and support each other in behind-the-scenes times.  Life is not a competition. 

"April Fools - We're Getting Divorced!" ...Reflections One Year Later

There hasn't been a day in the past 365 that I haven't thought about April 1st, 2013.  This was the worst day of my life: the day my husband told me that he wanted to separate.  And by separate, he meant that very night - packed up and left within two hours of telling me that our marriage was over.  April 1st feels almost dreamlike; some of the details are super hazy (What exactly did he say to me?  Which friends did I call that night?  Who among them thought I was pulling an April Fool's joke? Did I actually fall asleep at some point?), and some are vivid enough to be replayed in my mind in detail more frequently that I'd care to admit.

Although that night was rock bottom, the next few months were a very hilly climb back up, as I entered into what would become my "new normal".   I had moments of feeling like I'd never be myself again. I panicked about having a lack of stability.  I mistrusted a lot, worrying that other people in my life would "divorce" me as well.  I also had amazing moments of pure freedom, realizing that this change could bring about a new and exciting time in my life.

Honestly, there is a temptation to grieve today.  I'm tempted to ask myself the same questions that I asked a year ago: What could I have done to change the outcome?  What was the final straw?  How could he have made this decision, which was calculated and planned in detail weeks prior, completely unbeknownst to me?  How could I have been so naively blindsided?  Did I waste the best years of my life in a relationship that ended?

But while grief is one option, there is another: celebration.  I can celebrate that as the limits of my strength were repeatedly tested, I survived.  With every phone call I made and e-mail I sent in the first weeks after the separation, I humbled myself, admitting to yet another person that I had failed at that which had defined me.  I survived that.  I lived alone for the first time ever, during which time my security alarm went haywire, my water heater broke, and my basement flooded.  I survived that.  I packed my house for my move, leaving behind all of the physical remnants of my past.  I survived that. 

I can celebrate the adventures that I've gotten to have over the past year, which I never would have done in my old life: I've traveled a ton, moved to an amazing part of the city, experienced dating in a new way, created incredible new friendships and strengthened existing ones. Being single is actually pretty sweet.

I can celebrate that even though it ended, I have experienced a Great Love in my life.  Not everyone gets to do that.  Just because it didn't last forever doesn't mean that it wasn't significant and valuable and enriching.  Through my marriage, I learned how to love and be loved. I learned about commitment and compromise and balance. I can use those lessons for the betterment of all of my relationships, current and future.

I can celebrate that I didn't do it alone.  People didn't just shower me with support - they poured it on me by the bucket-full. Friends came forward in unique and tangible ways, and I felt like I was being held up on every side, by people who refused to let me fall.  Every text, every phone call just to check in, every note of encouragement, every meal, every offer of a place to sleep, every listening ear, every physical and metaphorical drying of tears... I can celebrate that I experienced love and loyalty in a way like never before.

And, perhaps the most importantly: I can celebrate the way in which my experiences can be helpful to others.  I've watched people struggle with their own life changes this year, and have been able to provide the perspective of being on the other side.  Life experience, even (especially) of the devastating variety, generates a kind of wisdom that isn't otherwise achievable.  This part is a work in progress, because I'm still constantly learning, but I hope that I can continue to share my story with people who might need to hear that they, too, can survive.

We don't always have choices about every life circumstance, but we CAN always choose our reactions and attitudes.  So, instead of choosing to dwell on the negative today, I'm choosing to celebrate the positive.