After watching a “Midsommar” video essay a few weeks ago, I’ve found myself thinking incessantly about how it feels to have a mirroring personality; to be a reflection of each person you meet, and how hard it is to have your own sense of self when you’ve only ever compared yourself to someone else’s existence.
The film “Midsommar” follows the experience of main character Dani Ardor, who is played by Florence Pugh, and her experience with grief following the death of her family. She follows her boyfriend, Christian Hughes, played by Jack Reynor, on a trip to Sweden. They experience the thrall of a Swedish Pagan commune, The Hårga, but suffer varying emotional turmoil at the hands of their unique customs.
Initially after watching “Midsommar,” I didn’t find Pugh’s character to be relatable in any sense of the word. I didn’t even like the movie itself, and I’m still not sure if I do or not. But after a few weeks of thinking about it, I’ve grown to appreciate certain aspects of the film — namely, its commentary on echoist personality types.
While I cannot find a tether to Ardor’s intense feelings of grief, I see a large chunk of myself in the way she silences her feelings for the benefit of others.
We see it often with how she treats her boyfriend, expressing concern to friends and Hughes himself about losing herself in her emotions or burdening him with her feelings, even while she experiences heavy pain and grief following the death of her family.
This emphasis on selflessness is portrayed throughout the entirety of the film, and is something that I see often prioritized in the modern day.
It’s routinely seen as admirable to be selfless — to silence your pain in the presence of others in order to avoid being seen as needy or desperate. This selflessness is perfectly intertwined with Pugh’s character, where she forcibly distances herself in several scenes when beginning to feel overwhelming emotions. She rejects physical contact a multitude of times, only accepting it when what she feels is so powerful that she’s unable to isolate herself.
It’s a dance I find myself performing more often than not. I’ve never been one to be open emotionally, even when the time is appropriate to do so. Even when I’m struggling and it feels like everyone can see it, I find myself unable to express what I need to, and eventually the moment passes, leaving me alone with words I’d only found the strength to say when it was too late.
While I don’t think this tendency is necessarily understood by everyone around me, I think more people feel the same way than they let on.
Echoist personalities have a tendency to perform for others — to silence everything they feel in pursuit of someone else’s emotions — a personality type that is fundamentally different from narcissism. While narcissists make every situation about their feelings, echoists fail to express anything at all.
Echoists avoid burdening others, often meet the needs of others as opposed to prioritizing their own, have high empathy, ask little of others and criticize themselves.
As time progresses, it seems healthily expressing emotions to others is seen as more taboo than it ever was. We live in a time where people prioritize themselves, which is good, but it’s evolved to the point where many completely ignore others.
The notion of protecting your peace has extended to denying core emotional moments, pushing feelings of sympathy and empathy to the side in favor of holding yourself above all others.
The point of love is to sacrifice, and sometimes that includes a bit of your own peace, which I feel goes both ways in situations of high emotional intensity.
Willingly choosing to cut out old habits of making yourself smaller or suppressing your emotions is the first step in garnering support when you need it. But connection is a two-way street. It’s good to emotionally connect with others, but you shouldn’t base your whole identity around the idea of someone else’s existence.
Individuality and emotional openness should be valued now more than ever. It’s important to stay true to yourself, no matter how hard that is.
