Losing the human face online
Esha Agarwal, Grade 11

"Man is not what he thinks he is; he is what he hides." – André Malraux
In an age where the self is meticulously curated online, The rise of self-care has illuminated the importance of tending to one’s mental and emotional needs, a necessary rebellion against the grind culture that exhausts the modern soul. However, in this obsession with appearance, even vulnerability is no longer sacred. It is curated, filtered, and turned into a commodity. Acts of self-care, once intimate and restorative, have been co-opted by aesthetic productivity—a culture that demands every moment, even those meant for healing, to be optimized.
The rise of aesthetic productivity cloaks itself in the language of self-care but undermines its essence. True acknowledgement of vulnerability—the raw, unpolished connection to our struggles—has been replaced with performative displays designed for consumption. Journaling becomes a photo opportunity, rest is now a brandable lifestyle, and even emotional breakdowns are tailored for relatability online. This transformation erodes the meaning of care, turning it into another cycle of perfectionism and burnout.
Psychologically, this shift has profound consequences. By tying worth to visibility and validation, social media conditions us to perform our lives rather than live them. Vulnerability, once a bridge for genuine connection, becomes another act in the theatre of our digital selves. The more we mould our struggles into something palatable for others, the further we distance ourselves from the catharsis of simply being, acknowledging the authentic self, and feeling cared.
Philosophically, the loss of true vulnerability is a loss of humanity. André Malraux’s words remind us of the value of what we hide—our fears, our insecurities, and the imperfect parts of ourselves that make us whole. In masking these truths, we risk becoming hollow, exchanging depth for aesthetics and intimacy for applause.
To reclaim vulnerability, we must resist the pull of aesthetic productivity. Self-care must return to its roots: a quiet, unapologetic act of self-preservation. It is found in what is unseen, in the moments of solitude where we confront, rather than curate, our truths. Only then can we find freedom, away from the endless performance, and rediscover the power of simply being.