“Criticism of others is thus an oblique form of self-commendation. We think we make the picture hang straight on our wall by telling our neighbors that all his pictures are crooked.”
― Fulton J. Sheen, Seven Words of Jesus and Mary: Lessons from Cana and Calvary
Yesterday, I was scrolling through my Instagram feed*, I thumbed upon a celebrity’s wedding pictures. It was Sasha Pieterse.
During my ignorant youth, I started following a lot of irrelevant magazines and celebrities, and the parade of their fake, or even worse, real happiness dragged daggers through my mental health.
Nevertheless, here I was, staring at her wedding photos and the comment section was a war zone (typical).
There were the all-loving supportive fans cheering their happiness, the not-so-loving fans criticizing the depth of the cleavage, and the martyr defendants scolding and shaming the aforementioned critics.
My train of thought fell off the rails juxtaposing these views, and here is the gist of my brain’s production:
To the martyr defendants:
Aren’t the very same magazines and fashion shows promoting certain looks, praising the cuts, the curves, the colours? Then why can’t people have equally negative opinions about a certain object? Are we so utterly generic that individuals can’t have unique opinions?
Not everyone enjoys/likes/fancies the same things. Why should the praises be shouted from the rooftops and the criticisms trashed?
To the critics of the dress:
The radius of the boob coverage in a wedding dress will not define a person or the depth of their happiness. If a person decided to go topless on her special day, the inner layers of their personality is not altered by the outer layers of their garment. You have all the right to dress your breasts according to your own personal preference.
I certainly had an opinion as well, but if it were my friend, instead of showering her with my own rain of biased preference, hence clouding her jubilant sun, I would merely express my delight of her merriment.
Then again, we are all to be at the receiving end of disapproval, after all.
What do you think?
*Side note: I am sharing my personal Instagram account, which is a bit out of my comfort zone, but I’ve decided to do what scares me.