Orchid Children and Toxicity of Advertised Happiness

By Doga Mehter

What synonyms come to mind when you think of happiness, a word with numerous connotations? The color yellow, spring, flowers, laughing and sparks all around us? Happiness is sought and chased after in a never-ending cycle of ‘if I finish this…’ or ‘if I achieve this…’ Happiness is consistently delayed, and the problem with happiness is it’s automatically tied to the if. The if derives from insecurities, such as the fear of failure, and a desire to be successful and ambitious. At the root of these ifs is the desire to prove yourself. In the absence of happiness, there is sadness, and one needs to be able to feel sad to feel happy. Unfortunately, our innate sadnesses and insecurities are utilised and sold back to us as the secret to happiness in the forms of cosmetic companies advertising a new lipstick that’ll make heads turn or even blogs claiming to know the secret to turning our lives around.

Now, this isn’t to say that these platforms are entirely negative. Fashion is a way to reflect an internal aesthetic or a mood, make-up can be a way to enhance what you already have, and blogs can be a great way to connect and relate to others. Like many things, these companies hold great potential, not only for our overall happiness, but also for our creativity. However, such opportunities are easily misused when given the chance to make more money or gain more views or followers. The overall take is that our environment (especially the media) often promotes happiness as a continuity, as a product worth investing in. Think of Apple, continuously developing new and improved products to keep their innovation-thirsty crowd satisfied. Until what point can any product, advertisement or advice keep us “happy”? When do we feel “unhappy”?  

We lose track of our happiness when we can no longer remain grateful. In the absence of happiness, very simply put, there is sadness, apathy, and numbness. However, these feelings are not as negative as one would think. They aid us in gaining wisdom, empathy, connections and can even encourage creativity. Behind some of the art we observe in museums is often a negative feeling felt too much and for too long. When an individual is going through a low period in their life, their desire to seek out help increases, despite the instinct to remain in isolation. Loved ones reach out and remind them that they are always there for them, a reminder of what will remain in when the sadness is gone. 

Sadness, in this case, is a bit like a magnet — sometimes it may attract not what we want, but what we need. Through extreme periods of sadness, judgement is often skewed, and distinguishing between what we want and need may be blurred. We are then told by others what we need to make the sadness dissipate, such as self-help blogs and books, weight loss, pills, etc. However, sadness is natural. Like happiness, it serves a purpose, both evolutionary and moral. In evolutionary psychology, sadness serves a social advantage where it may provoke us to feel guilt when harming another, thus allowing us to diminish violent or hazardous behaviour. Sadness may also attract compassion from others and widen one’s circle as a result, but most importantly it allows us to connect with others on a deeper level. Our sadness is often deeply-rooted, and while it is easier to communicate happiness, explaining your negative feelings challenges you, encouraging you to be vulnerable and learn from your weaknesses. 

Let’s use sensitivity as an example. Some individuals, such as orchid children, are extremely sensitive and genetically predisposed to having a more sensitive nervous system, as explained by the Neufeld Institute. This could take the form of sensitivity to particular fabrics, materials, sounds or even the sound of chewing. Some people, for example, have such sensitive eyes that light causes them to sneeze. Sensitive individuals can be perceived as fragile, emotional, irrational and often get told that they ‘overthink.’ Now, if the individual’s innate sensitivity is paired with anxiety, for example, they do often overthink and doubt their actions consistently. Unless of course, this sense of anxiety or negative feelings are prolonged for more than six months of your life, then it is an appropriate time to consult a professional.

Nevertheless, when the individual’s sensitivity is used in a more positive manner, it has incredible amounts of potential. Those who are sensitive tend to show an increased amount of detailed awareness of their environment, often noticing subtle changes. For example, a highly sensitive person is more likely to have high empathy levels, meaning they have a heightened capability to put themselves in other people’s shoes. Not only does this have social advantages, but it can also aid in career success. By recognising another person’s characteristics regarding their likes or dislikes, a highly sensitive individual knows how to better persuade the other person. Overall, those who are highly sensitive can better adapt themselves to new situations.

It is also important to note that our sensitivities should not be glorified when feeling sad or anxious. The qualities of an innately sensitive individual often make daily life harder, such as the previously mentioned example of overthinking, even at times making it impossible. If feelings of sadness are extreme and prolonged for more than six months, they often cause more harm than good and a professional should be in consideration. Nevertheless, in cases when such qualities are mere hindrances rather than absolute obstacles, they can be altered to eventually be turned into a quality to be expressed rather than a quality to repress.

Sadness, sensitivity, anxiety. Although heavily burdensome, they always have an element we need to learn from, either about ourselves or about our environment. Be curious, why do you feel this way? What prompts you? What factors drive you to behave in the way you do? Try and embrace who you are, try to understand how you were fabricated. It is natural for humans to fear what they cannot understand, and the two plausible antidotes are curiosity and empathy.

Edited by Karolina Hajna

Artwork by Emma van den Nouweland