In Defense of PDA

 

A few weeks ago, my husband Tom and I were walking down Main Street in Burlington and we stopped to give each other a quick kiss on sidewalk. A jogger yelled, “Get a room!” and angrily rolled his eyes at us. We laughed it off, though I did feel sad for the person who was disgusted by humanity/deeply lonely enough to yell about it.

It got me pondering: what happened to public displays of affection?

Gentle displays of love make this world a gorgeous place. In a world where capitalism makes us hold ourselves to unattainable professional standards without time to rest, and the constant fear of being recorded has us constantly buttoned-up, we are losing a sense of humanity that I long for. Perhaps I’m misremembering an idealized time when people were more open-hearted and PDA was common. I seem to remember seeing more of it pre-covid. And certainly pre- social media. Is this lack of PDA a symptom of a problem in our society? Or a consequence that we can and should alter?

People avoid PDA and emoting in public. And when I say, “affection,” I don’t mean open-mouthed making out, (or “heavy petting,” as my teachers used to say). I mean it in a broad sense. When’s the last time you saw two people laughing their heads off? (You know those types of laughs that make other people laugh? Is there anything better than that?) We save our reactions for behind closed doors, to avoid being seen as cringe/annoying, to avoid attention, or because we are uncomfortable around other people. It’s as if we wear a veil keeping us from authenticity, protecting us from the world’s judgment but also keeping us from feeling. It’s common to mock the ways young girls greet each other. We sneer at them as they shriek and jump up and down. WHY? It’s so fun, and special. May we all be so whimsical.

Examples of PDA I love seeing:

• people having a loving moment with their dog. Petting them, talking to them
• someone holding a door for someone else
• a couple holding hands
• someone picking up something someone else dropped and running after them to return it

When I worked retail, I would become invisible behind the counter to some patrons who would try on clothes. They’d forget I was there, in a world of their own, laughing and gabbing, feeling free in an environment where they were in pubic but didn’t feel like it. (I think this especially happens in thrift stores, which is another reason they are magical places.) A hobbyist anthropologist, I love seeing glimpses into these worlds. I craved more (which is perhaps a reason I freeze these moments on camera now). I wish that people could behave a little less self-consciously in public, the way they did in that thrift store.

There’s a larger collective reason I believe PDA will help us. Recently, I found that very specific pleasure of discovering an author who embodies a character very much like myself. This exchange from Interesting Facts About Space perfectly summarizes my feelings:

“‘I’m starting to think that the only thing that matters is that people feel happy. I keep noticing so many people aren’t happy, and it’s been making me feel sick. I keep looking at everyone and thinking, Oh my god, I just want them to smile. I keep staring at people’s mouths. I keep thinking, ‘Oh my god, I just wish you were smiling–‘”

“‘Rosemary nods. ‘Yes, I have thought about that too.’ She looks at my mouth. ‘Now, do you ever think about how people might wish that for you?'”

We can be the person we’re searching for, and we can be the person leading by example.

People with CPTSD/PTSD are often hypervigilant, and “scan the room” for danger. For me, this manifests as an automatic and somewhat exhausting exercise of scanning my environment to make sure no one is hurt or unhappy. A decade ago when I was a social worker, I saw the worst types of relationships and their damaging effects. I began to think that loving affection was scarce. These experiences have made it relieving– and therapetutic!– to hear laughter or see obvious joy when I’m out in public. I seek out these interactions without realizing I’m doing it. Seeing them make me a better photographer, too. I get pose inspiration from real life. Love isn’t scarce. Happiness is everywhere. And it eases my anxiety to think, “Those people are not only safe, but happy.” I know I am not alone in this. More conscious effort to display joy and affection would make our communities happier places– assuaging the deep anxiety, loneliness, and depression plaguing all of us.

In a climate where the 24/7 news cycle is dour, the recession has us pinching pennies, and the deep winter has set in, emitting joy might not feel natural. But boy do we crave it. Seeing it helps people believe that it is there, it is possible, and that it is not scarce. Though I might get sneered at by a jogger here and there, I know that my effort to be friendly and display my happiness is largely well-received. By looping arms with my best friend, unabashedly laughing with a colleague, or hugging a client, I know that I am having a larger impact on the general happiness in my community. A conscious effort to care less, and emote more, is a priority for me in my life.

I hope that next time you see me, we can jump up and down and shriek at each other like some amazingly unafraid teenage girls.