Actually Brad, You Aren’t Self Made

And to be honest, that’s just fine.

Photo from Unsplash.

So here I am again – it’s a typical Tuesday night, I’m off work and wondering what I should have for dinner (does a gin and Diet Coke count?), and as usual I am doom-scrolling through Instagram. Picture after picture of thin, tan, twenty-somethings on vacations in paradise (I thought this was a pandemic?) alternate with reels of greasy, cheese-covered viral foods, sending me into a weird tailspin of emotions. Do I want to be thin like the first picture, or eat the cheesy carne asada fries I see if i just scroll down a little? Everyone on Instagram seems to be living their best lives, and I’m just here, hoping the next episode of Broad City doesn’t get cut off when the wifi inevitably decides to not work. The further I scroll, the more I see words like “self-made” and “self-starter”, and I’m starting to get a little irritated. Maybe that’s just because I am also pouring lettuce into a bowl and relegating myself to the fiber I know I need instead of just grabbing a handful of leftover holiday candy, but this has me feeling cranky. What does self-made mean anyway?

Three years ago, I probably would have told you I was doing it All By Myself. I had an apartment that I was paying for, a dog, a job I liked, and I could afford all the drinks at the bar I wanted, plus concert tickets and new Doc Martens…