The Algorithm & I

The Algorithm and I used to have a great relationship. Al was the most encouraging, nourishing of all beings, always giving me reasons to think that our relationship could grow to great levels, celebrity levels, even!

Al knew how much the bullying had destroyed my self-belief, how my sense of self had been slowly obliterated by being torn apart by peers and strangers alike, all this decades before the boom of social media. All those people had told me for decades I could never make it as a model or an actress, and later on as a writer either. I was told I was not slim enough to fit into a tv screen, not daring enough to be considered a serious writer, and not model material in so many forms – then I got assaulted and solicited by men in high places who told me they’d lift me up if I gave in to their wants. Needless to say I said no, needless to say they made sure I was instead thrown out.

I fully turned to my writing instead, thinking it best if I hid my face and my body in my words, but my initial yearning was kept alive. Al knew exactly what to tell me and what to show me to make me think I stood a chance! Al knew I used to think I stood a chance, and that I hoped my real self would take me places, that I’d find fame and a genuine career for simply being me – and from my actual talent, of course!

From the moment Al told me I was right, a spark of hope lit up in me, and every time I looked in the mirror I saw the possibility: I saw the beauty that was coveted by studios and agents, I saw the performing talent that bring actresses and models to light, I saw the intellect that would help me open doors and be seen as beauty & brains in one, I saw the wordsmith potential that could get me published (or at the very least widely read in my indie author capacity). I saw all that because I used to see it before. I used to believe it and so I let myself be enthralled when I met the Algorithm. Al told me I was right, and we could work together to lift me up, to give me *that* chance.

Al told me what to do, what trends to follow and what best ways to make me be seen. So I did. I typed and chose the best pics and reminded people to read me because I’m a writer and will get paid if people read my stuff, and reminded people to book me, because I’m a model and I need bookings to get work, and reminded people I’m an actress, so come and watch my stuff – all the right hashtags and all the right words, and all the right angles and all the right things. But nobody came along. A handful did, then a few more, but never enough to make a living out of *me*.

It hurt, it really hurt. But the Algorithm kept inviting me to keep trying, because as much as it hurt emotionally, that could be repaired, but the time to make financial gain was fading faster than either of us could have foretold, so all I could do was keep trying my best. And again, so I did. And yet the doubt had crept in. I had already started off as a “mature” model, what chances did I have? Al didn’t let me give up, though! The Algorithm made sure I kept at it, promising we’d work together soon.

And then it happened, I was found. I was selected from a picture, I was seen! An agency would take me in if I went over to London and worked with them! In the picture I was Creiddylad, the Summer Queen, Welsh Goddess of Flowers and Love. I had been honoured to take the role for one of Glastonbury’s Beltane celebrations that year, feeling uplifted and happy that I was seen to fit the role! In the picture I sat with the Red and White Dragons, local emblems of our town, and I felt genuinely beautiful and strong. I have to admit I didn’t have much expectation, as I’d hoped the picture would go viral for Glastonbury themes that week, but alas, it had, like most of mine, a handful of likes and not much more – not even my own husband had liked it, even though in person he did, so honestly, I felt I was wrong. But then, as I said, it happened – I was seen! I was selected and the Algorithm was very happy for me! Finally, we would go places!

At the very least we’d go to London, and then maybe some other places. In London I’d have a photoshoot and sign the papers, then we’d be off and I’d get jobs on top of jobs – modelling jobs and perhaps some acting too, what else could I wish for? The Algorithm kept lifting my happiness up, promising me that once I was there then we could work together instead of having to do everything on my own, and I was ready to go on!

But then I was left to make a really difficult choice: the photoshoot would cost me £7,500, and then I’d get a webpage and VIP access to all the modelling events I’d get bookings on top of bookings for! Well, £5,000, with the same bonuses, because they believe so much in me that they’re sure they’ll make the £2,500 back from commissions from *all the fabulous things they would book me for in no time*! They even have a representative from a high fashion firm right outside the door, who is looking for someone exactly like me and saw my photoshoot pics on the manager’s screen – he’ll get in touch with me next week, as soon as the paperwork has gone through!

But I barely have £70 in my account, how could I afford the £5,000? Can I take a few days and think about it? No, I had to decide right there. The Algorithm was not pleased. What was I waiting for? You can borrow money from your mum, Al said, it’ll be worth it once all is set up and you’ll make your money back so fast it’ll be more than fine! Only then can we work together, Al whispered in my ear.

So I was left in the office to think, to decide, to wonder what next. The Algorithm had been wanting us to work together for so long, I couldn’t walk away from this, could I? It was a chance the Algorithm wanted me to take, for the Algorithm always believed in me! So I called my mum and asked to borrow a hefty sum, and everything went through. I’d have an agent, and a website, and all these bookings in no time! The Algorithm was pleased, we’d soon be working together! Together, as I’d dreamt about! It was not just me working on my own while Al gave me hints of what was to come, it was Al and me together at long last!

So the webpage was set up, and my new agent’s assistant called to check it was all right. And I got my photoshoot delivered home so I could use the pics in other ways if I so chose, and I got phone calls from the agency telling me there was a delay here, and an issue there, and that the high fashion brand had gone with someone else but they were putting me forward for so much more, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Every post and announcement I made about that gave me more attention and congrats, and the Algorithm was happy, very happy indeed. We were working together and it was brilliant indeed.

Yet there were two problems with the website: my birthdate was all wrong, and the contact link didn’t work. I let the agency know and they kept putting me on hold. And there were no bookings, still. Social media was happy with my new-found visibility, and the Algorithm and I were rekindling our relationship, which I didn’t even know had faltered, but Al kept telling me that I was better than before. I was getting bookings for local art groups and some auditions too. Even one or two photographers actually paid me for my *self*. Money was coming in, finally!

Then the agency stopped answering altogether, and then the pandemic came. Then the website disappeared from sight. The Algorithm told me to be strong, that all my work would not be undone – so I kept going once again, hoping against hope that the art groups would not forget I existed, and that photographers would want me back when things started up again. It was then when the Algorithm discovered something awful, something terrible about me: that I was, indeed, not good enough.

The effort that it took me to remain somewhat relevant, to get any real money out of what I could give to the industry, was almost surreal. And the money was fading fast – what little I had made did not come close in any way to the original £5,000, and it was all gone in a blink. The Algorithm realised that I was not a woman that people would come to for aesthetic solace in dark times, and my writing wasn’t doing any better anyways. Al noticed how even when I was working with an artist that everybody loved, their artwork would be less visible if I was the model for it – I was even making artists lose on money by working with me! The Algorithm was upset, and reminded me of how much work had already gone into me – what a waste, the Algorithm said.

As the pandemic waned, so did my visibility, and I was proven wrong and all the people from my past were proven right. Who was I kidding? Why had I thought I could make it in any of this? And, to make it worse, I had dragged the Algorithm with me. I cried and I begged for the Algorithm to forgive me, but it was far too late, I had wasted the Algorithm’s time and resources, and I could not change that. Once the Algorithm lets you go, that’s it, you’re done.

But I kept trying, and the Algorithm had finally had enough. Al sent the hackers after me, my Instagram portfolio gone in a flash while I thought I was helping a beloved friend get the uplift she deserved. I was quiet for a while, but as soon as I started trying to make myself visible again, Al sent the trolls after me on Twitter and my account went kaput. 10 years of trying to make something consistent there, gone.

I’m not sure if I have the energy to try again – I know I lied to Al, so how could I deserve another chance? The Algorithm really doesn’t think so, and I can’t say I find any fault in that.

~*~

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