The Dangerous Myth of the Romantic Solitary Influencer

        She stands on a rolling hillside, wildflowers spilling in every direction. The mountains in the distance are soft white merengue peaks as she runs away from us, the viewer, in slow motion. Her long hair waves in beckoning ripples as she lifts her billowing skirts and leaps headfirst toward some magical destination only she knows. 

            Yeah, you know the social media post I’m talking about. I’ve totally done this sort of post myself as well. The reason why it’s so easy to describe, and why it’s seen so often on social media, is the fact that it works. We sit in our cubicles at work, eating the same peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for our fifteen minute lunch breaks, and then we check our Instagrams, our TikToks, and see this lovely image of a faceless maiden running away from everything in the most idyllic setting, and for a moment, since we cannot see her face, we imagine “that’s me, just for a moment. I’m not here, I’m there. I’m her.”

            Vicarious living is a big part of the “sell” for a romantic influencer. And that’s ok. There’s a reason why numerous accounts feature a female figure who never turns her face to the camera to be seen. And it’s not just on Instagram or TikTok. YouTube is also full of aesthetic and romantic cooking channels where the woman never shows her face as she gathers eggs, picks vegetables from her garden, and then cooks a gorgeous meal using all lovely crockery atop a worn work table. 

            We find it easier to relax into the imaginary world of this nameless woman if she has no personal story. What is her favorite song? We have no idea. Does she have any medical issues? No clue. And who is her life partner? Ahh. That’s the part I wanted to address. 

            For the most part, it is, to the best of my knowledge, harmless that we love to live vicariously through this sort of creative work. But when it starts to worry me is when this same sort of desire to know about someone, but simultaneously not know about someone, trickles into the way an influencer sees herself. 

            You see, I’m starting to notice this trend in romantic influencers; even the ones who have recognizable names and faces, who smile at the camera and make a joke, whose pets we know, whose fashion choices we can agree match her eyes beautifully. We know her. But we don’t. 

            The part that worries me is how many of these influencers create a façade that they are solitary. Perhaps we might vaguely know that they have a significant other, but that person almost never shows up in their images, videos. We see her making the dinner alone. We see her having a solo picnic in the meadow. Maybe her spouse or partner is actually there with her, eating the aesthetically pleasing sandwiches once the camera turns off. Maybe the videos and photos we watch were even taken by them. But they are the invisible ones. 

            Remember the joke a few years back that doesn’t seem to die? Remember the Instagram husband? Yeah. That’s who I’m talking about. 

            Now, mind you, not all romantic influencers fall prey to this arguably dangerous fiction. For instance, influencer Darling Desi, featured in my recent blog post, regularly shares behind the scenes looks at her life with her husband. And yes, in some shots, there she is with her gingham dress on, and there he is in his pop culture t-shirt and shorts. It doesn’t quite go together aesthetically, but you know what? It’s her life, and I’m so glad she includes it. Then there’s Jessica Kellgren-Fozard, who exemplifies the retro aesthetic, and her lovely wife who prefers jeans and a plain shirt. Jessica has built her social media on celebrating the two of them as a couple, as well as her own lovely, super-feminine aesthetic. 

            What’s the big deal? you might be asking. It makes sense that we want this influencer to be a sort of amalgamation of relatable but idealized, personable but romanticized. But I wonder, because I’ve seen it even in my small world, in my small sphere of being an influencer if only a minor one, what cost can there be for the influencer? And on their relationship?

            Women should be free to explore and express their artistry without their partners feeling left behind. Public figures have a right to keep private whatever they prefer to keep private. And some people actively don’t want to be seen on camera. All of these things are true. But when a person’s online personal is entirely or mostly based on pretending that their best beloved doesn’t exist at all…well, I can imagine how that might potentially be hurtful. How it might wear on someone. 

            I’m going to speak from personal experience now. Instagram and social media can be incredibly good for mental health. Specifically, as I’ve mentioned before numerous times, Instagram was what got me into the woods, looking closer at the world around me and paying attention for little moments of magic. However, in trying to create a sort of fictionalized solitary reality for my own social media, it’s true that I found myself spending more and more time away from my own husband, Tom. When we went on vacations, I wanted a really good solo shot for my feed. And sometimes I found myself so wrapped up in getting that photo, it became more important to me than getting photos that capture the experience I was having with him. 

            This photo was taken at our local arboretum. At the time, I didn’t yet have a tripod and remote to take my own photos, so I asked Tom to take them for me. And a lovely stranger came along and asked if we wanted him to take a photo of the two of us together. What I remember about this moment is how I had to forcibly shift my way of thinking from posing dreamily for my own solo shots to taking this photo with Tom, and how the thought hadn’t even occurred to me until then to get a photo of the two of us together. And yes, there we are. He’s in his Disney hoodie and jeans, and I’m in a velvet gown and silver filigree elf ear tips. And we are both perfectly ourselves.

            So if you are an aspiring influencer, if you, like me, enjoy crafting a curated reality for your preferred social media feed, just consider, every now and then, letting the people who follow your account know that there is someone you love, someone who supports you, even if they prefer to stay on the sidelines. Not all fairy queens have to be single. Not all princesses are stuck up in a tower alone. And not all princes wear armor. Sometimes they wear a Spider-Man t-shirt.

**Note, I use gendered language in this post because most of the instances I’ve seen of this solitary romantic figure are female-identifying influencers. However, the message fits regardless of one’s gender.