Sometimes I'm recorded while I’m eating. It's jarring to spot myself on her social media – it’s like a jumpscare.
My best friend of a decade, she, calls herself the “creativity monarch”. It’s fun for a short while, but it weighs on our friendship.
Being highly outgoing, she feels the need to document everything all the time. When we eat out, her motto is, “The camera eats first,” and snaps pictures with the flash on, which induces embarrassment. I don’t like it when strangers see her performing for the camera – I get secondhand embarrassment. It also frustrates me because the food gets cold.
She isn’t exactly an influencer yet, but she is trying to be. She creates video blogs about city life, a day in her life, and her styling career. Her content is good, credit where it's due, but I don’t want to be involved. Sometimes I'm captured while I’m eating, or simply tagging along. I’ll see myself on her Instagram afterwards, and it comes like a jumpscare: I might be no makeup on, making a strange expression or photographed while eating. It’s uncomfortable.
Marielle also anticipates that I will to record her at inconvenient times. Often I’ll be talking to another person, or we’ll just be hanging out in the street. The dynamic feels like our friendship has transformed into me being her free crew. She has the means to employ someone if she wanted high-quality content. Upon mentioning my unease about the situation, she dismissed it. She’s taken me to several brand events, which was nice, but that doesn't compensate for all the energy I invest helping her create material.
I appreciate that she has supported me with my design career, but I resist our friendship to become merely a tally of favours. I don’t feel she's insincere or dishonest, but sometimes it seems that if recording starts, we will begin acting in a way that makes us look good for her vlog.
She will say, “OK, look happy!” and film me smiling with another. It feels forced. I need her to understand that our decade-long friendship still has boundaries. I enjoy spending time with her, but I also want to experience it without being recorded, edited, or posted for an viewers. I’m not a prop for her Instagram.
I hope Beth to see that the creations we produce together can get us a foot in the door.
I am passionate about shooting content. It’s not just a pastime; it's integral to who I am. Producing content and sharing my life online allows me to express myself and engage with people in new ways.
I wouldn't label myself as a full influencer yet, but it’s smart to make money from your interests. I look up to people on social platforms who execute that style of casual, DIY film-making.
Creating content is my version of living actively: noticing the details, sharing them with an audience that appreciates the craft behind it. It's never my aim to make Beth uneasy. Bringing her to industry events was my way of sharing opportunities, giving her a opportunity to witness behind-the-scenes moments that could benefit her professional path too. That isn't leverage, it's simply being realistic.
I would take her to such functions even if she didn’t help me, but I want her to see the benefits the work we make together can achieve: an opening. I understand not all people likes being on camera, but sometimes unplanned moments is what makes content genuine. Appearing on video occasionally is an inherent aspect of being my friend. I would delete anything she requested, but she hasn't made such a request yet.
I don’t expect anybody to be my personal videographer, but companions help each other in small ways. My assumption was filming a short video now and then would be enjoyable for Beth. Creativity flourishes in collaboration, and having Beth around makes endeavors energetic and pleasurable. I never force her to participate in anything, and I’d never deliberately humiliate her. But creating content jointly sometimes is part of how I document our time together.
I value our friendship deeply and want to avoid content creation to drive a wedge between us. I’m willing to find middle ground: like requesting permission before recording, and avoiding shots that might make her uncomfortable.
This is not about power, it’s about expressing my perspective while still respecting hers. Obviously making content is not a replacement for genuine friendship: it’s just part of how I live my life and I want her to be involved in a way that’s agreeable for both of us.
Should Marielle stop filming herself and her friend when they are socializing?
There’s nothing more excruciating than having a friend point a camera at you. I get that it’s Marielle’s job, but I wouldn't ask friends come to my workplace. Maybe she can find like-minded creators to collaborate with. With the uncertain future of AI, personal relationships are the only thing we have – cherish them!
A respondent, 25
When pursuing something professionally, you can’t ask your friends for help repeatedly, even if they have done it before. If Marielle loves shooting, that doesn't imply everyone around her is content. She needs to honor Beth’s personal space.
Ankit, 26
She may enjoy producing videos and showing off her life publicly, but it’s not for everyone. It was kind she has helped Beth’s career, but she must to hear what Beth wants.
Emma, 27
It sounds like you care about each other, so cling to that and ensure it’s the focus in your relationship. Foster some authentic memories, where true emotions are stored, not online archives. Even public figures who seem to share their worlds actually have more privacy than it appears.
One opinion, 53
She seems to be neither present nor genuine when she’s with Beth – she's on the job. Both seem confused as to where the line is. The solution lies not in trying to change one another, but in each establishing clear boundaries around what is comfortable to them and seeing if there is an acceptable compromise.
Barbara, 71
Consider this question: is Marielle over-exposing their bond?
Lena is a digital design expert with over a decade of experience in UI/UX and creative technology, passionate about sharing innovative design solutions.