This Isn’t Who I Am

Courtesy PA Images.

A recent Boston Globe article about the ‘No Buy’ trend features an amiable woman from Utah, Stephanie Noble, who got so caught up in online shopping that she had boxes of unopened purchases, repeat purchases, etc. According to the article, the 38-year-old woman looked around her array of stuff and thought, “This isn’t who I am. It’s not what I value.”

Now, I don’t know Ms. Noble; she likely has many noble characteristics. But one thing I do know about her (if Boston Globe reporting can be trusted), is that she’s a compulsive online shopper. That is who she is.

When you meet someone at a cocktail party who says, “I have to watch my pennies” while describing the renovations to their summer house, you know they have plenty of money. Or the bloke who retorts, “You don’t me,” after you’ve pointed out a persistent trait so obvious, so elemental to their character, that you never imagined they might be sensitive about it.

Where did this cognitive dissonance between reality and ego come from? This habit of pretending away accurate assessments of ourselves in favor of protesting the opposite. Why are we so thin-skinned? Or simply delusional?

If proclaiming yourself to be the opposite of a clear reality was only a matter of pretend humility or extreme consumerism, we might be able to laugh it off as folly. But unfortunately it’s become the dominant factor in our national discourse.

We live in an era where a person’s perception is their reality, regardless how it corresponds with objective fact; a world in which objective fact is ridiculed and dismissed. Whenever anyone says anything that doesn’t align with your perception, you protest—loudly—and then assert the polar opposite. The volley of claims and counterclaims based on imagined realities simply makes our discourse louder, more divisive, and more aggressive.

I am riddled with foibles, insecurities and doubt. I have a terrible temper, quick-flare emotions, a history of depression, and a serious case of Irish Alzheimer’s (where you forget everything except the grudges.) There. I’ve said it. In print, In public. So next time you point out an objectionable behavior rooted in my turbulent innards, I won’t be tempted to defend my fragility by proclaiming what is patently incorrect. Instead, maybe, just maybe, I will hear what you say and gain some insight about how the outer world sees the actual me. Instead of building a thicker shell, I might actually develop more porous, healthier skin.

As for Stephanie Nobles. Apparently, she has gone six months without making any impulse purchases online. That’s a good long stretch. Perhaps even enough to change the habit of compulsive shopper to one of prudent shopper. Of course, the article reports that she had such a backlog of unopened make-up and clothes that she hasn’t run short of anything yet. So, although I wish Stephanie well, the skeptic in me considers the jury still out.