TELLING THE TRUTH, BUT NOT THE WHOLE TRUTH; SHOULD WE LIVE A TRANSPARENT LIFE ?

Last Friday before my open studio weekend I found myself slumped under a table in the studio – it was dark and pouring with rain at 7.30 on a Friday night and instead of trying to peel bits of masking tape off the grimy floor I should have been sitting in front of the fire with a glass of wine.

Some time later, once I’d mustered the energy to crawl back to the house a friend wished me luck for the Open weekend online and wondered at my energy and ambition, congratulating me on how much I was achieving in my art business. It made me laugh through the tears, it seemed at such odds with the exhaustion and isolation I was experiencing at that moment! I also felt that maybe I was letting my friends and followers down, not to mention myself, for not being completely open about how hard things get sometimes.
I mentioned this in my Facebook Group ‘Creating Space’ and was soon engaged in an online conversation about exactly how much we should share online, and how. How do we balance the need to be positive and authentic with the responsibility to be open and vulnerable?

I think of myself as a fairly open person; I wear my heart on my sleeve and share my feelings with those I believe are truly invested in listening. I’m aware though that this transparency tends not always to translate into my online character, however. The main reason I don’t share so much about my personal life is that I’ve witnessed others over share and yes, it can be a turn-off. And I’m fearful of being thought of as spoilt and unappreciative of what I have. And I’m scared of falling down into the pit of despond, once I admit I am struggling. And yet there are many who are brave in their vulnerability and that is both endearing to me and fosters my loyalty. How can we navigate this conundrum?

Like many, I started using social media for personal purposes only, amongst a small group of carefully curated, ‘real life’ acquaintances. Now that I’m running a business I find myself prompted by social media experts and ‘gurus’ to maintain a consistent and regular output of content that is well planned, on brand, congruent with my values and rounded up with a clear call to action. Social media for those of us who run small businesses is a long game- it’s about building trust and allowing our followers to get to know us. For creative entrepreneurs, you can add in a need for connection, inspiration and support from our peers.

And so, in my Twitter, Instagram and Facebook feeds you’ll see a reflection of, but incomplete depiction of my life. It’s the truth, but not the whole truth.
If I moaned consistently about my glass half empty life, it wouldn’t be good for me, and it wouldn’t really be good for you in the long term, either, even if you stuck with me. Positivity is a healthy, contagious habit and means a lot to me. It’s a habit I have worked hard on, over the years since a bad bout of depression, through lots of reading and journaling, spells of cognitive behaviour therapy and some training in positive psychology. So a lot of what I post IS rosy tinted; that’s just the way I’ve learnt to see life. Of course, this is the easy stuff to share. There’s always a positive comment to make on a day in the studio or a walk in the woods. But what do I post when shit happens? We want to sound confident to our peers and clients so they have faith in us, and sharing our woes can challenge that. Do I just keep quiet about it, and risk propagating a myth that I live a blessed and perfect life in which nothing challenging ever happens? I think that relentless positivity can actually be painful for others to witness; we all naturally compare our ‘insides’ to others’ ‘outsides’, which is always going to be a recipe for low self-esteem and morale. I don’t want to be responsible for propagating those feelings in someone else.
We have the option to spin the bad stuff once it’s all over and resolved, complete with ‘5 things I learnt from overcoming x problem/ challenge/ disaster; ‘failing forward’ in modern parlance. I think this can work well; there’s always a book or two in the bestsellers lists in this vein. Brené Brown calls this ‘gold-plated grit’; part of a ‘Gilded Age of Failure,’ where we applaud stories of redemption and recovery, whilst failing to acknowledge fully the pain and anguish that precedes it. Who amongst us is brave enough to write those stories in the moment, and who is brave enough to read them?

Back to how we present this stuff on social media. There is a difference between authenticity and transparency- I would argue that we should ALWAYS be authentic, on a personal and brand/ business level, but how that is presented is a matter of choice. Authenticity supports integrity- if you are consistently 100% yourself, and true to your values then there’s never a danger of you contradicting yourself. (Politicians take note!)
The extent to which we choose to be transparent is a harder choice. I can’t think of an argument against being any less than completely authentic. How transparent we choose to be, however, is a sliding scale which may change over time according to our own choices and life circumstances. And how emotionally robust we’re feeling. It’s hard to share fully when you’re down and depressed. But showing vulnerability and seeking- and offering- empathy is a huge part of nurturing relationships. I tend to do it naturally, in person, hence it feels authentic. It’s a two-way process, conversational in tone. It’s about knowing when you need help and asking for it.

I think long and hard about what to say, and how to say it. If things are bad I tend to go quiet, which is a reflection of how I am in real life too.

I tend not to share how much time and energy is spent maintaining, cleaning, and repairing the large, old crumbling house and the lasting hangover I still experience after the trauma of renovations and fights with builders. I didn’t share too much about the horrors of having a septic tank that regularly flooded, a central heating system so flawed that we are without heating for 50% of the time.
I don’t write about my life between not quite good health and not-quite illness and my constant battles with energy levels and periods of low-grade anxiety and depression. Or the sadness I feel supporting my mum on her journey into the dark tangled woods of dementia. Or the longing for my husband, who I love dearly and yearn to spend more time with, to retire before he drives himself completely into the ground and the fear that at any time I will get a call saying he’s been taken suddenly ill, or worse.
Or the fear I have for my children, in early adulthood, bright, sensitive, compassionate, creative souls who have both chosen non-traditional paths into creative careers and probably have only an inkling of the challenges ahead of them. And our daily involvement in their emotional, practical and financial lives that makes parenting as hard as it ever was.
I’ve struggled for years to feel seen and heard for myself rather than a satellite in the lives of others. I had a difficult decade in my twenties making my way up the ladder in local government – which turned out to be the wrong ladder leaning up against the wrong wall.

(Bear with me, there’s meaning to all this gloom!)  My first attempt at a creative career was put on hold by a period of four years during which I taught my son at home following a horrific early years school experience for him. Following his resettlement back into school, my photography career took off but still didn’t feel like the work I should be doing.
Now I’m painting and trying to make my way in a world that presents challenges at every corner- self-doubt and imposter syndrome, the difficulty of marketing oneself, pricing and selling…

You’ll agree when I put it like that my life sounds awful but really it is wonderful! How’s this instead….

Because of my gorgeous husband’s (of 28 happy years) successful career and his loyalty, hard work and perseverance we live in the house of our dreams in the country. I have a dear friend who helps me with the garden so it’s manageable. I have a cleaner to help me keep on top of things. In fact, I’m very well supported; we have two amazing carers for my mum who share the load and a close relationship with my brother who is very involved too. I love mum to bits and she continues to be the caring, funny, dear person she always was despite forgetting whether she’s had breakfast or not. We have a very close immediate and extended family, enjoying each other’s company in daily life as well as holidays and outings. We share the same passions, values and interests. We respect each other’s space and support each other’s goals.
We have enough money to travel, to live well and look forward to a comfortable retirement. And we know that we are very, VERY fortunate.

Doesn’t that sound like the perfect life? Of course, both stories are true, and I try and show a life that tells them both in a way that has meaning for me and you. Through a thoughtfully and authentically crafted and curated social media stream, images and words describing a life witnessed through the filter of a glass half full, I’ll continue to try and portray a life that is pretty damn wonderful, and where it isn’t, an understanding that what we learn at these times is shared with my real and virtual friends in the hope that I can lead and inspire us all in a quest to make the most of a mad, bad, wonderful world.