I have been thinking and talking about pedestal culture for a long time. Ever since I became more visible in both my industry and business I noticed that people started to place me on a pedestal. As someone who has suffered with chronic self esteem issues throughout most of my life this was both terrifying and validating.
I finally got to be the popular person. People wanted to speak to me on social media, they gravitated towards me at events, asked me out for coffee, told me how great I was and how I changed their lives. My ego loved it. Every major achievement and the praise that followed pushed me further into my performance.
I shared everything of myself, earned more money, said all the things everyone wanted to hear, I was a puppet and the expectations of clients, industry and audience were my strings.
Suddenly, everything started to feel very fragile. A new version of anxiety started to manifest itself inside me. I have so many more people to disappoint. It’s simply a matter of time before I am found out. I felt like I had to manage everything that I said and stay in a fixed version of myself because of the expectations of my audience. Defensiveness was a consistent existence.
It also made it very hard to call things out because of the power my pedestal had given me. I was less than human. As a chronic people pleaser (childhood trauma) I had trapped myself in success I didn’t want and the projections of other people. This of course is all in hindsight, as with all lessons you live through them and keep repeating the patterns until you learn and break the cycle.
Pedestals are toxic. Both for the person on it and those looking up wishing to attain those lofty dehumanising heights. On the other side, those of us who place people on pedestals are giving away our power because we are relying on someone else to give us the answers and make decisions for us, I say us because I have done this as well, countless times.
Pedestals are also incredibly dangerous. Through both the harm that is perpetuated internally and externally. The inability to be human, to make mistakes can create extreme and constant stress and magnify mental health issues. You can wind up surrounding yourself with yes people, rejecting those who will hold you accountable or tell you the truth. This can then cause you to not only harm yourself but also harm others.
It’s incredibly lonely. Both cut off from yourself and genuine connection. It limits any form of growth because of the masks you have to maintain.
I have seen it in cancel culture. When someone who is idolised by their audience changes what they offer, makes a mistake or has a previous error bought to the surface the people who are projecting their hopes, dreams and aspirations onto them can turn into a raging witch hunt the moment the illusion they created and projected is broken.
It’s a two way street. Both parties are responsible. Those who allow themselves to be pedestaled and those who idolise. And we all have capacity for both at the same time. The system we live in is built on this.
It’s something I am working on endlessly. I recently had a training with someone I deeply admire and respect. I promised myself though that I would approach my learning with them from a place where neither of us are special. Where we are both fallible, where I can still learn from them but I have permission to not agree with everything they say or do. This means I can ask questions and hold my teacher to account. It also means I am not operating from a place of wanting them to like me and neither do they need me to like them.
This is a healthy interaction. I can respect someone while wanting to learn from them but I can also recognise that they are human which means that they will make mistakes. My conscious decision to not see anyone, including myself as special means that my interactions and connections with other humans are truly meaningful.
It allows for accountability, deeper connection and more compassion both for myself and others.
You can’t connect with someone if you idolise them or if you allow yourself to be idolised.
It also keeps myself and others safer, the ability to question someone and make my own choices makes me so much less vulnerable to manipulation and abuse. Then on the other side improving my capacity for criticism and accountability means that I am far less likely to manipulate or abuse anyone.
This topic is so huge. I have been procrastinating on how to end this piece of writing for a few weeks now. The more I think about pedestal culture and the harm it perpetuates the more I see it as the foundation of the harmful systems we live in.
We pedestal celebrities, governments, religions, activists, our peers and family members. The structure of power we currently live is completely and utterly dependent on it. I have been struggling to find any good reason for its existence other than to oppress us and make sure we are never fully able to connect with one another.
Yes we need teachers and guides, we need writers, activists, artists and creators. We absolutely do need people’s ideas and leadership but imagine if those things didn’t come with pedestal culture? Imagine if they came with a permission to be fully human and accountability instead? How would that feel?
Or as humans are we just programmed this way? And it will always be in our nature to create pedestals. Have we ever not done this? How can we unravel it within ourselves?
I don’t have the answers to the questions above but I am reflecting on them every single day. I am also constantly trying to stand in my own truth, to allow myself to be fully human and to do the same for others. It’s deeply uncomfortable. It involves letting go of binaries and leaning into spaces where there are no right or wrong answers, where no one is good or bad. It’s the space of both/and.
I have also found real connection, joy and belonging in this space. A quiet confidence and sense of freedom in the knowing that I am not special.