When I compared the recommended content I see every day on Instagram to that of my fiance’s, something very troubling happened.
We all have issues putting our phones down. I talked about this in a previous piece, but I’m still thinking about it. I’m attempting to take the steps to rectify my screen time, but regardless - when I’m in a downward spiral doomscroll, I find that my targeted ads and content are getting a little too targeted. Somehow, my whole algorithm knows I’m getting married, knows my family has small children and that I might someday too, knows I dabble in a pilates class or two - and even knows some of my deepest insecurities; and has offered countless ways to ‘fix’ those insecurities. It doesn’t seem to know I have a Master’s Degree - but that’s besides the point. Or maybe it is the point. Hear me out.
While I’m inundated with white outfits and bridal must-haves, tips for how to be the perfect ‘mama,’ and how to get snatched for the summer by following these five waist-shrinking steps, my fiance is learning about the fall of Rome and how to chop garlic. One of these things is not like the other.
It’s hard to ignore the gendered stereotypes and norms that are at play in these examples. While I know men do fall victim to the manosphere - the interconnected web of misogynistic online content masquerading as self-help for men1 - the emergence of these arguments has me thinking about women’s battles against the same type of content - and how long we’ve been fighting; further, I’m thinking about how the internet’s campaign for self-love is perhaps the manosphere hiding in plain sight.
This brings us back to how the internet capitalizes on our insecurities and tells us the simple solution: buy buy buy.
Are you tired of being built like a rectangle? Snatch your waist by buying this strange vibrating elastic contraption, available now on Amazon.
Listen up ladies, it’s hot girl summer and you only have 3 months to get it tight. Buy a pilates at home work out set, it will change your life, available now on Amazon.
Everyone has been asking about my old money aesthetic skin care routine. NO ONE HAS BEEN ASKING.
Self-love as a movement is arguably if not inherently feminist at its core.2 The act of ‘self-love’ was at some point considered a ‘radical’ behavior, as it pushes against societal norms and gender stereotypes; it dictates that women should prioritize their own well-being, and in doing so we can live happier and more fulfilled lives. This does not mean the act of self-love aims to outweigh our ability to nurture our relationships, our obligations to the world around us, and our desire for connection. However, the feminist argument for self-love pushes us to re-center the preservation of self, which in turn allows more space and energy for all of the other pieces of our lives.
However, over the past decade, the argument for self-love has quickly become weaponized as a tool for capitalism and misogyny; if you buy this, you can fix that. Consume because you love yourself and you want to be your best self. Maybe if your living room looked a little more like Anthropologie, you won’t want to wade into the sea. You still might, but buy this trinket to see if it helps!
Somehow, something inherently good got flipped on its head and became yet another way for people - specifically women - to feel like they’re not doing enough. And unfortunately I’m not entirely sure how to fix it. I like buying new things! But maybe the first step, even before putting our phones down (because we know how hard this is), is this: look for it. When you see content you don’t like, say so. Rather than ignoring the algorithm, maybe we can change it.