About midway through high school, I started watching a show called Gossip Girl. The show is supposed to be a snapshot into the world of high income, high status New York society, as the outsiders go to preposterous lengths to try to get in with the ‘it crowd.’ After watching the first two episodes, I became absolutely infatuated. From the clothes, to the parties, to the lifestyle, I had never seen people or places quite so glamorous. From that point onward, I knew what I wanted. I wanted in.
As I continued to watch the show season after season during my high school years, the idea of landing in that world felt entirely out of reach. While I may have been able to dominate the halls of high school with the status I had naturally gained through my fairly public gymnastics career, this micro level of fame was no longer enough for me. I had my sights set on something else, something bigger, and I was determined to do whatever it would take to get there. While my friends were obsessing over their AP Scores and scoping out potential prom dates, I was setting the groundwork for the most difficult design challenge that I would ever embark on: designing my way into a world that I so desperately wanted to be a part of.
The most challenging thing about this design challenge was that I couldn’t let anyone in on the secret. Designing an image is different than any other design challenge, as you have to play both the role of the designer and the subject of your design. It is an out-of-body experience. While I wasn’t even sure that the world I was working towards really existed, I was desperate to discover the truth for myself. If I could design a new life for myself through the image that I would create, then maybe, just maybe, I could find a way in. As I set off on the design challenge of a lifetime, I knew that I was on my own. If I was going to play my cards right and really have a shot at getting into this world, I knew that I couldn’t let anyone know what I was up to.
Designing an image is like creating a character within a play; if the audience sees you break character, they don’t buy in. If I would have any chance of making this work, I knew that I would need buy-in from all parties, no exceptions. The constraint of solidarity has been one of the greatest challenges that I’ve faced throughout this design journey. The more I began to morph into the image I was creating, the further I drifted from the people in my life who knew the version of me that existed prior to designing my new image. For quite some time, I felt entirely entrapped in my own head, caught in the middle of the image that I created and the powerless high school student still caught inside of me.
When I started watching Gossip Girl five years ago, I was a complete outsider peering into a world that I wasn’t even sure existed. Five years later, this is the world that I have come to call my reality. It is the access pass that I wanted all along. Everyone who remains on the outside sees my world as something as glamorous and intriguing as I saw the world of Gossip Girl in high school, and everyone on the inside has bought into the image I’ve designed. What I failed to realize when I embarked on this design journey five years ago is that this world that I so badly wanted to be a part of is, in many ways, completely empty. While it looks perfect from the outside, this world is somewhat surfaced – a sea of people going through the motions and drinking just enough champagne to keep the conversation flowing. For all besides a few, this world is a game, and everyone on the inside is merely playing a part. While the life that my image subsists in may be empty, it is really easy to trick yourself into making it feel fulfilling. We have all built an image that can survive in this world, but just because your image can survive, it doesn’t mean that you can.
Underneath all of the elaborate evening gowns and flutes of champagne is the version of my heart and mind that is still stuck in high school, walking around the halls with my head in a book and my hair in a ponytail as I quickly rushed to make it to Fed Challenge practice or AP Chem Lab. I became so consumed with building out the image that I needed to create in order to design the life that I wanted, that I have blurred the line between who I really am and who I show the world. I often wonder if when I started designing my own image, there are certain parts of me that somehow did not come along for the journey; it’s as if my brain is still stuck in a former version of myself and my body is living and breathing in the world that I’ve designed my way into.
When I looked in the mirror five years ago, I didn’t always like what I saw, but at least I knew that it was my own self who was staring back at me. Now when I look in the mirror as I’m on my way to a charity gala or cocktail party, I feel like in many ways, I’m looking at a mere creation - a carefully crafted design that lives in the depths of the life I’ve created, while I’m left floundering somewhere behind. Like I said, it’s truly an out-of-body experience.