Sometimes I'm recorded while having a meal. I’ll see myself on her Instagram – it’s like a jumpscare.
A close companion of a decade, she, labels herself the “creativity monarch”. It can be amusing for a short while, but it weighs on our friendship.
Being highly outgoing, there's a constant urge the need to record everything constantly. When we eat out, she says, “The camera eats first,” and takes photos with the flash on, which makes me cringe. It's unpleasant when strangers see her posing or filming – I experience vicarious awkwardness. It also frustrates me because the food gets cold.
She's not quite an influencer yet, but Marielle is trying to be. She makes vlogs about living in our city, her daily routine, and her work as a stylist. The material is quality, credit where it's due, but I don’t want to be involved. On occasion she films me while dining, or simply tagging along. Later, I appear on her Instagram afterwards, and it pops up like a surprise: I’ll have bare-faced, an awkward face or be captured mid-bite. It feels invasive.
Marielle also expects me to record her at inopportune moments. Sometimes I’ll be talking to someone else, or we're simply spending time in the street. I feel like our bond has transformed into me being her unpaid videographer. She has the means to hire someone if she wanted professional shots. When I brought up my unease about this arrangement, she brushed it off. I've been invited to a couple of industry functions, which was nice, but that doesn’t make up for all the energy I invest assisting her create material.
I’m grateful that she has helped me with my career in design, but I resist our connection to become merely a tally of favours. I don't believe she's insincere or dishonest, but sometimes I feel that if recording starts, we will start performing in a way that makes us look good for her channel.
Her directive is, “Alright, smile for the camera!” and film me laughing with someone. It feels forced. It's crucial her to understand that our decade-long friendship still has limits. I love spending time with her, but I also want to experience it without being filmed, edited, or shared for an viewers. I’m not a prop for her Instagram.
I want my friend to see that the content we produce together can get us a foot in the door.
I love creating videos. It’s not just a hobby; it’s part of who I am. Producing content and sharing my life online allows me to show my personality and connect with people in novel forms.
I don’t see myself as a full influencer yet, but it’s smart to generate income from your passions. I admire people on social platforms who pull off that aesthetic of informal, self-made film-making.
Creating content is my version of engaging with life: observing the details, sharing them with an audience that values the craft behind it. I never intend to make Beth uneasy. Bringing her to professional gatherings was my way of sharing opportunities, providing her a chance to experience behind-the-scenes moments that could benefit her professional path too. That isn't blackmail, it’s just being pragmatic.
I would take her to such functions even if she didn’t help me, but I want her to see the benefits the content we make together can achieve: a foot in the door. I understand not everyone enjoys being filmed, but often spontaneity is what makes content genuine. Being recorded occasionally is an inherent aspect of being my companion. I would delete anything she requested, but she has never asked yet.
I don’t expect anyone to be my personal videographer, but companions help each other in minor capacities. My assumption was recording a clip now and then would be fun for Beth. Innovation thrives in collaboration, and having my friend around makes endeavors energetic and pleasurable. I never force her to participate in anything, and I’d never intentionally humiliate her. But filming together sometimes is part of how I record our shared experiences.
I value Beth’s friendship profoundly and want to avoid content creation to come between us. I’m willing to compromise: like asking before recording, and steering clear of angles that might make her uncomfortable.
This is not about control, it's regarding sharing my world while still considering hers. Obviously content creation is not a replacement for real connection: it’s just part of how I experience life and I desire her to be included in a way that’s agreeable for both of us.
Is it right for her to stop filming herself and her friend when they are out together?
Nothing is more uncomfortable than having a companion point a camera at you. I understand that it’s Marielle’s passion, but I wouldn't ask friends come to my work. Maybe she can find influencer friends to create content with. With the uncertain future of technology, personal relationships are the only thing we have – cherish them!
Liberty, 25
If you’re doing something as a career, you can’t ask your friends for help repeatedly, even if they have done it before. If Marielle loves creating, that doesn't imply everyone around her is willing material. She needs to honor Beth’s personal space.
Ankit, 26
Marielle might love making content and showing off her life online, but it’s not for everybody. It’s nice she has helped Beth’s career, but she needs to hear what Beth wants.
Emma, 27
It seems like you care about each other, so hold on to that and ensure it’s the focus in your relationship. Create some authentic memories, where true emotions are preserved, not online archives. Even celebrities who seem to reveal their worlds actually have more privacy than it appears.
One opinion, 53
Marielle appears to be not fully engaged nor genuine when they're together – she's on the job. Each appears confused as to where the line is. The solution lies not in trying to alter one another, but in each setting clear boundaries around what feels acceptable to them and determining if there is an acceptable middle ground.
Barbara, 71
Consider this question: is Marielle over-exposing their friendship?
A tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering AI, cybersecurity, and emerging technologies across global markets.