Between icks and the constant conversations about who may or may not be a red flag, it’s becoming increasingly clear through our language that we, as a collective, are deeply in a self-preservation era. This isn’t a bad thing. In fact, it’s necessary to protect your peace. A lesson that many of us are still learning is that we are not directly responsible for the happiness of others. We have to look out for ourselves to prevent getting hurt and prevent being around people who don’t want the best for us.
Lately, though, the line between taking responsibility for the happiness of others, and simply wanting the best for those we care about has become blurred. We act like these things are interchangeable. This mindset may help explain the rising feeling of loneliness so many people in our generation are feeling. And honestly, it’s not our fault, either. We spent our formative years in a pandemic, which didn’t exactly help our social skills thrive. We derive comfort in social media spaces, given how they offered us a semblance of community during those times.The problem is that these platforms are echo chambers where certain ideas are quickly labelled as inherently bad or inherently good.
This brings us to the ick. Why have we accepted the idea that one uncomfortable moment actually warrants distance or complete emotional distancing? Sure, in some cases, this could be a justifiable reaction, especially when you are being hurt by someone’s actions directly. But more often than not, especially when these ideas are perpetuated online, we treat small mistakes or unchangeable traits as fatal flaws that can’t be resolved through communication. To what point is something actually an ick? So what if they have red hair, or is an only child? Is that necessarily a red flag? I wish I was joking, but those are both examples I’ve seen online.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m super guilty of this. I’ve participated in more red-flag discourse than I’d like to admit. That’s just how media socialization works. After curiously perusing through the red-flag hashtag online—and finding some alarming situations people were put in—I’ve also discovered the other end of that extreme. I’ve seen people who are left confused and isolated over some simple miscommunication errors, along with others celebrating their disconnect with those around them. It made me stop and wonder when being emotionally unavailable became aspirational! This shift may be subtle, but it’s definitely there. Our nearly excessive need to care for ourselves reads as an inherent need to withdraw from others. When we start treating emotional distance as a virtue, we also become prone to being unkind.
It is, of course, totally normal to be comfortable with being on your own. Taking time for yourself is important. Some of us even thrive off this time for ourselves. I myself find solace in being alone in my own presence, but that doesn’t stop my very human need for connection. While there’s no simple cure for loneliness, it’s normal to feel overwhelmed when navigating relationships, especially when our cultural language has grown to frame connection as something risky. We’re complicated people, this makes our various relationship dynamics all the more confusing. To actually combat our loneliness, we have to let ourselves connect with people. This means we have to throw aside our surface level assumptions of others, and recognize the line between real harm and minor blips. We have to allow ourselves to care for others, even when it feels easier not to.
