On: The Selfishly Beautiful Act
This article is best enjoyed whilst listening to the song “I Never Really” by Anna Leone - https://youtu.be/tRjfw8F4zzU
Over the course of a few years, I have come to realize that one thing I am a bit good at is writing about people, especially those I care about. It started way back in my Facebook days when I wrote birthday tributes to my friends and then evolved to the four image screens on Twitter. And a few times I’ve also dedicated this newsletter to celebrating some of these special people too.
And as cute as this whole thing sounds, the truth is that a lot of the time, these timeless pieces, frozen in the pages of the equally timeless World Wide Web, have little to do with the actual recipients of these adulations and more to do with me.
My idea of celebrating people is simple: tell them the sweetest, kindest things while they are still available to hate it, love it, or cry about it.
As zen as that sounds, it isn’t totally honest. For one thing, I celebrate the people I love this way because it makes me feel good. Look, I can’t deny it: the external validation that comes from having someone read about themselves through your own embellishing eyes of flowery adjectives, anecdotes, and sometimes plain old half-truths is to die for. I remember writing a piece about a dear friend of mine, Tomi, and her reading it and telling me it brought her to tears. Boy, oh boy, I could literally feel the endorphins crawling into my brain.
Another time, I wrote a sweet note on another friend's birthday, and she blurted out the words “I love you, Mifa,” and honestly, at that moment, I understood why so many people fight and kill just to hear someone else say those three words to them. The point of this is that I like the external validation that comes from being able to celebrate my loved ones in this simple yet profound way, using one tool in my very depleted arsenal of talents to garner some very necessary endorphin high.
And it’s not like they don’t get something in return from reading about themselves through my rose-tinted irises of adulation. I know they do. The replies are always so sincere. People usually only expect perfunctory words like “Happy Birthday, Xxx, wishing you a happy and prosperous life.” People also expect tangible gifts like flowers, cash, jewelry, etc. However, as incredible as getting such gifts feels, they soon lose their novelty over time.
But you see, the truth is that people never wake up to a birthday or maybe just a random day and expect three to four paragraphs of why they deserve the best, are the best, and are created divinely in their own uniqueness to be so much more than they themselves can see.
And that’s what I offer. And I offer that with the sincerity of a child who just sees you and likes you. Not because you’re aesthetically pleasing to their still-forming brains, but because they—in their innocence—can see the flawed yet beautiful beauty in who you are and can be to them. I try to look at those I care about with those baby-like eyes too.
And I know it sounds a bit like a brag (it totally is), but I think I do an amazing job writing kind words to those I care about. Birthdays are special because on such days I remind them that they are more than just the commemoration of a date on the calendar. I try as much as I can to tell them they are worth every kind and heartwarming word in my vocabulary. And although my vocabulary is limited, I’ve come to learn that words like “kind,” “amazing,” "gorgeous," and the like are words that never feel old, no matter how many times you write them.
More importantly, when all is said and done, I sleep a bit better knowing this is the one aspect of my selfishness that doesn’t feel selfish. Yes, I get the external validation I intrinsically seek, but in the grand scheme of things, I also get something even better—more external validation. This mostly comes from having the recipients of my kind words know that for as long as the internet thrives, the way I see them—in those baby-like innocent eyes—is forever etched into the sands of the internet, and by extension, time.
For what it’s worth: THIS IS MY THING. I’m putting this out there just in case someone else is trying to copy my style.
Psyche! Just kidding. If you know you can be as generous with kind words as I am in celebrating those you care about, please do so as often as you can. Trust me, it is worth the price, and even better, it will make you feel really good. But I would point out that you should never deny what this act truly is at its core. Yes, it is still you (like me) seeking some sort of validation. The only difference is, you get to do it and never feel shitty about yourself because you made someone else feel less shitty about themselves. And that’s as good as life, or anything else in this cosmic ball of tragedy we call a planet, gets.
Cheers!