‘I can’t believe you accidentally posted it. That’ssoyou.’
'I know. But many people feel the same way. I thought I was just being pathetic, wallowing in self-pity because I couldn't cope with having an empty house and wondering what I do next.'
'You're not pathetic, you're honest. Do you know how rare that is? Everyone pretends everything's fine all the time, especially on social media. Here you are, showing what it actually looks like when your life changes completely and you don't know how to adjust.'
'It's so embarrassing. I'm sitting there in an orange kitchen in my dressing gown, looking like I haven't brushed my hair in a week, talking about eating toast for dinner and having conversations with the dog. I shudder to think what people around here will think.'
'So what? That's what it actually looks like when you're struggling, not some polished version where you've got perfect lighting and a script. These women are responding to you because you're being genuine.'
'What do you think I should do? Should I make another video? Try to respond to some of these comments? I don't reallyknow how any of this works. What have I done? I have loads of bits of footage now. I could upload that and see how it goes.'
'I think you might have stumbled onto something here. There's clearly an appetite for this kind of honest content about what life looks like for women our age. Not the glossy lifestyle stuff, but the real, messy, complicated truth of it.'
'You really think so?'
'Yep. You know what else? You look better in that video than you have in months. Not because you're dressed up or anything, but because you're being yourself.'
‘I guess.’
‘Right, sorry, I’ve got to go. ‘I’ll text you later. Don’t doanythingabout it right away. Hold your horses. Just wait and see how you feel.’
‘Thanks. Yes, speak to you later.’
Darby watched the view counter tick up again to 10,149 and tried to imagine deliberately making another video, knowing that thousands of people might watch it. Things had gone from pie in the sky to real. She needed tiramisu.
14
Darby woke the next morning with a peculiar sensation, as if something fundamental had changed in her world, but it took her a moment to remember exactly what. Then, as she turned over and looked at her phone, a tsunami of thoughts flooded back to her. The video. The comments. Over ten thousand people had found their way into her kitchen, watched her confession that she was at a dead end and blue. By way of the comments, subscribers and likes, those viewers had decided that what she’d rambled on about was actually worth listening to. The world moved in mysterious ways.
Full of trepidation, she winced a little bit as she reached for her phone. Tapping on her channel was like opening an email with medical test results or tax bills; you knew you had to have a look, but didn’t really want to. As she blinked and stared at the stats, she shook her head. The video, rather than slowing down, had continued to gain momentum. It seemed as if it had taken on a will of its own. The view count had climbed, the comments section had exploded, and the number of messages was frankly overwhelming.
'Blooming heck.' Darby muttered to Lola, who was watching from her basket. The look on Lola’s face said that she’d longsince given up trying to understand human behaviour. 'What have I done? What in the world have I done? I need help.'
Scrolling through some of the new comments whilst still in bed, Darby was flabbergasted and amazed by the stories pouring in. Women from all over the country and apparently several other countries as well shared their own experiences. Of being lonely, feeling confused, career dissatisfaction, and the peculiar grief that came with a successful part of life reaching its natural conclusion.
One comment made her pause:I've shared this with my daughter because I wanted her to understand why I've been so odd since she left for university. She called me crying yesterday, saying she finally understood why I seemed sad even though she's doing well. Thank you for helping us talk about something we couldn't find words for. Please post more.
Dropping her phone onto the duvet, Darby stared at the ceiling. She'd gone to bed as someone whose biggest decision was whether to have Marmite or jam on her morning toast, and woken up as someone who had messages from all over the world.
Getting up and going through her usual morning routine and a quick check of the weather through the kitchen window, Darby couldn’t really make head nor tail of what had happened. Thousands of people had watched her talk about how she was lonely and lost. Quite embarrassing, really. Surely, she sounded like a loser?
Her phone rang as she was buttering her toast and Penny's name appeared on the screen.
'Morning. I’ve just been reading through the comments. There’s even a journalist on there.’
Darby groaned. ‘Don’t say that! I’m thinking about deleting it. You said to hold my horses, so I haven’t removed it yet. What if someone sees it?’
‘Like who? Over my dead body. You arenotdeleting it! You are now an internet celebrity…'
'Don’t even joke. I keep thinking I should scrub the whole thing and pretend it never happened, but then I read another comment from someone saying it helped them, and I can't bring myself to do it.'
'Don't you dare delete it! You've started something great, Darbs.'
'I don't want to start something great.' Darby took a bite of toast. 'I just wanted to explain toyouwhy I've been so rubbish lately.'
'Well, you've done that and more. The question is, what are you going to do next? What was that other video you said you’d started?'
Darby thought about the large amount of footage she now had on her phone. ‘I’ve got a few things on my phone that I didn’t use in that first one, so I suppose I could put those together.’
