I’ve kept a personal journal since my senior year of high school. While my journal does consist of mundane, every day occurrences, I often write lengthier entries when I feel inspired to reflect on something that has happened to me or if I need to work through difficult, recurring thoughts. Keeping a journal has been one of my most mentally therapeutic outlets, coming in second place only to long distance running. I thoroughly enjoy returning to my previous journal entries to laugh at, cringe at, and sometimes even agree with my past-self. I figured it would be fun to have a more public version of a journal so that my thoughts could be seen, criticized, and discussed by others. I also figured that by posting my thoughts in a public space I’d be encouraged to write more eloquently, hopefully improving my writing in the process.
Something I find difficult to reconcile is that writing a blog is a seemingly narcissistic endeavor. Why would I think anyone would care enough to read my thoughts? I suppose I don’t think anyone would. Maybe my close friends will? Ultimately, I want to write a blog for myself, which ends up being self-centered anyway, so I guess you can’t be modest in writing — or in any creative-medium — can you? Creating is inherently about the self.
Screw it. I guess I do think I’m interesting enough and smart enough for people to read my ideas. There, I said it. Moving on!
I love conversation. In a way, journaling is one-sided conversation. My personal journal isn’t meant to be read by anyone but me, so there isn’t much that can be discussed if its contents are a bit too personal. Blogs, on the other hand, seem to retain a lot of the internal dialogue that comes with keeping a journal while also inviting outside participation. Of course, what I write here will be a censored, self-conscious version of my thoughts, but I suppose that’s true of any interpersonal interaction. During conversation, we modulate our thoughts and attempt to present them in the best light in order to be persuasive and amicable. Conversation is a complicated, dynamic, and beautiful dance, while writing is a calculated, one-man performance for people to react to. So blogging definitely doesn’t retain all the benefits of talking with someone, but I think it will incorporate some of the positives that come from both journaling and conversing.
So who am I? My name is Julian Lang, I’m 22 years old, and I just graduated from Tufts University. At Tufts, I majored in Psychology and French and completed the pre-med requirements in hopes to attend medical school in 2023. And just in case anyone starts my Wikipedia page, include that I graduated Summa Cum Laude and was inducted into Phi Beta Kappa, but make sure you mention I accepted my PBK membership via Zoom while sitting at a lunch table at Six Flags. I think accolades are stupid and dangerous for the ego, and treating them with seriousness (i.e., putting on a suit and sitting stiffly at your desk for a ceremony held on Zoom) assigns too much value to something that really doesn’t mean anything. What means something is that I studied hard and cared about learning while at school. I suppose all an award does is recognize that fact? But it’s dangerous to assign large amounts of meaning to accomplishments because then your sense of self-worth becomes dependent on something external rather than internal, which relinquishes any sense of control we might have over our lives. If who you are is defined by external recognition, your internal self is nothing. Assigning meaning to awards seems to be an indication of a lack of confidence. PBK should mean nothing to me, because I know those things about myself already — that I worked hard and enjoyed learning in college. I shouldn’t need my university to tell me those things to believe them about myself.
So why work hard at all if no one knows about it or if you have nothing to show for all that hard work? True confidence — true belief in oneself — should require no external validation, yet paradoxically, those who are apparently confident are constantly validated. Those who believe in themselves tend to achieve, and they are recognized and admired for their successes. But it doesn’t seem to be a chicken-or-the-egg question (is it confidence that begets success or success that begets confidence?) — confidence seems to go hand-in-hand with “success” (whatever your definition). I’m not sure one causes the other. There must be something else that breeds both meaningful achievement and confidence — something internal. Something spiritual?
It feels good to be recognized for hard work, which is rather unfortunate, because we often chase further recognition and validation so that we continue to believe positive things about ourselves. If we are to lend any validity to psychoanalysis, this likely stems from early interactions with our parents, where we learned which actions were “good” and were perceived as favorable. And sadly, if this is how we live, we will never get enough attention and validation, and we will never truly believe in ourselves. There’s nothing groundbreaking about that thought, yet humans (including myself) are so susceptible to living in this manner. I think the chasing-validation-to-believe-in-oneself model for living is the foundation for pretty much all of the depression and anxiety we see in our world. Needing reassurance that you are a certain type of person creates a fragile sense of self.
This style of living is pervasive in our modern world, probably largely as a consequence of social media. An important question with respect to posting on social media is, “Why did you post this?” Is it because you want to believe that this is who you are? If so, there is inherent validation in simply being seen in a particular way on social media. You don’t even have to receive a like or a comment on your post in order to be seen the way you want to be seen, and in turn, to believe that your post represents who you are. It’s also important to mention that your post doesn’t have to be a picture of yourself in order to elicit the validation that comes with being seen the way you want to be seen. You could post a picture of a sunset in order to be seen the way you want to be seen.
If one truly knows oneself, why, ever, would one post to instagram? A confident individual knows their looks, their abilities, their sense of humor, and their personality traits, so they have no need to display and immortalize themselves through social media posts. I hear a flurry of objections:
“But it’s fun!” What’s fun? The rush of being seen, and therefore validated?
“I’m aware of all these things, so it’s harmless!” It isn’t ever harmless, but it’s good to be aware. Social media affects us in ways we cannot identify, and by participating we perpetuate the need for validation in ourselves and in others. And maybe that’s okay. This ideal I’m getting at, where one requires zero external validation, is probably impossible to realize. After all, no one’s personality is developed in a vacuum. We become who we are through interacting with the people and things in our environment, so it seems only natural to sometimes view ourselves through the eyes of other people.
“I know myself well, I don’t care what anyone thinks of my social media posts.” So why do you post them? If your posts truly mean nothing to you, you’d be better off not participating in social media, if only to save a few hours of your time each week. This objection is the one most rooted in self-deception. You do care. Something inherent in posting to social media platforms is that your post is meant to be seen by others — even if only for 24 hours. And your choice for what you post is exactly that: a choice. So why did you post what you posted?
I must admit that I justify my own social media use with all of the above objections. I think it’s important to know that every time you participate in social media, there is a reason for it, and sometimes that reason is more unsettling than we want it to be.
Perhaps my larger argument is that no one is completely and truly confident. No one fully knows themselves. Using social media is just one means of trying to develop a sense of self, albeit a potentially damaging one. These tasks that our culture has deemed so important — to be confident, to know oneself — are feats no human can fully accomplish. And that’s okay, because ultimately, they’re good ideals to strive for.
Anyway.
I’m currently in deep grind mode for the MCAT. I take it in 12 days. It’s brutal.
In mid-September, I’ll be moving to Toulouse, France, where I’ll be working as an English Language Teaching Assistant at Lycée Polyvalent Bellevue, a high school located just south of the city center. I have no idea what to expect from next year, but I’m extremely excited. Part of the reason I wanted to start a blog was to document my time in France. I have a feeling it will be rather transformative.
Julian Lang 