Is it more embarrassing to have a boyfriend or to post about it? If everything is awkward, nothing is awkward, except our relationship with reality
We’ve all seen it. That triumphant British Vogue article claiming that having a boyfriend has become embarrassing. It went viral, and everyone had their own take. Some said the problem isn’t having a boyfriend, it’s having a male one. Others added that the issue isn’t having a male boyfriend, but thinking it’s something special, rather than just succumbing to heteropatriarchal normality. And then there are those who argue that the real problem is settling for the bare minimum just because it comes from a performative male with a mustache, a mullet, and Sylvia Plath’s diaries tucked under an Irish wool sweater. But let’s not get carried away. Whatever your conclusion, British Vogue didn’t stop there: it doubled down, calling it embarrassing, this time, to post photos of our “normal” friends.
Is having a boyfriend embarrassing or not?
Sure, it’s for the clicks. But there has to be more to it, some kind of cultural climate, an itch that these headlines scratch. Assuming that “normal” means nothing (unless we fall into those poisonous distinctions between “locals” and “us,” “normies” and “us”), which would only place us on a pedestal we built for ourselves for no good reason, making us unlikeable. Ignoring the fact that, yes, few things are as embarrassing as showing the world that your boyfriend cooked you a toddler-level dinner while you praise him like a child who just learned to use the potty, there’s something deeper in this attitude, in this way we talk about our experiences online. It’s a sign of a difficult relationship with the world we live in and the way we communicate.
@economyvodka I’ve had my fair share of dysfunction and mess in relationships but I’ve kept that to myself. I didn’t come online sharing it with the world lmao. #foryou #relationships #dating #marriage #mormon original sound - Wanderslut
Maybe the embarrassment comes from posting, not from living
These two articles have something in common. Despite their titles, they’re not really about having a boyfriend or having “normal” friends. They’re about the act of showing them to the world, of posting them on social media. The awkwardness, then, lies more in posting life than in living it. Maybe that sense of embarrassment doesn’t come from living ordinary relationships, but from thinking they’re special, that they deserve a spot on our feed, our stories, our TikTok profile. But what does that say about our relationship with these platforms, and more importantly, with reality itself?
What if this discomfort extends to real life?
The answer isn’t exactly comforting. If posting “normal” (yawn) everyday things feels uncomfortable, then what are we supposed to post? Should we stop altogether, as it’s already happening? Why can’t we treat our Instagram feed like a personal moodboard again - a visual diary free of staging and simulation - even when we’re “normal” people (there it is again) and not content creators? Maybe it’s inevitable, or maybe it’s a symptom of a deeper dissatisfaction in our inability to translate reality into images, to pretend, to romanticize, to make an ordinary life look sparkling and aesthetically curated. So much so that we even judge our friends, thinking they’re not “post-worthy” unless they’re special, know someone important, have a cool job, or fit into an increasingly unreal vision through their look, haircut, or outfit. Are we afraid of judgment? Of course. But the harshest judgments are the ones we place on ourselves, comparisons, expectations.
@cleopatra_501 referring to the british vogue article about how it makes a woman less cool to have a bf . lowkey tho, i think this could’ve been a great step away from centering men but it quickly turned into defining women by men again. watch bound 1996 for some real feminism. #feministtiktok #fyp #intersectionalfeminism Unlock it (Lock It) [Jeff Prior Mix] - Charli xcx
How can we learn to be satisfied with our own lives?
There’s no single answer. We don’t all have the same resources, paths, access, or opportunities. It’s unfair, but it’s part of the reality we’re so desperate to escape. If being reminded of it through social media hurts, maybe it’s better to just step away from them, not out of shame or embarrassment, but for our mental well-being. If the constant comparison with people who photograph their lives for work (and therefore show us a version filtered - literally - by narrative, branding, and economic needs) becomes too much, then maybe we should talk about it with a professional, a therapist who can help us regain perspective. The goal is to achieve digital mindfulness, staying aware that what we see isn’t real, freeing ourselves from any sense of embarrassment. Because the people in our lives deserve to be celebrated, not hidden.
