When you're in the public eye, we all feel like we're constantly

Host: The city lights blazed outside the apartment window, casting a flickering glow that danced across the walls. The hum of the evening rush outside was a constant, a reminder of the world that never stopped moving. Jack sat on the edge of the sofa, the remote control loosely held in his hand, his eyes fixed on the screen but distant. Jeeny was at the table, a cup of tea in her hands, her gaze thoughtful, like she was searching for something in the quiet of the room.

She finally broke the silence, her voice soft but curious.

Jeeny: “I read something interesting today. Alexander Skarsgård said, ‘When you’re in the public eye, we all feel like we’re constantly observed, so we don’t let things out. Anger, sadness, happiness – when does that come out? Maybe when you’re in traffic, because you’re in the safety of your little metallic bubble.’”

Jack glanced at her, a half-smile forming on his lips, but there was a hint of skepticism in his expression.

Jack: “I don’t know… Sounds like some actor philosophy to me. Sure, when you’re constantly in the public eye, you probably feel like you have to bottle up everything. But it’s not like regular people aren’t doing the same thing, right? We all have to play it cool, pretend everything’s fine, especially when everyone’s always watching.”

Jeeny leaned forward, setting her cup down carefully on the table. Her eyes were bright with a kind of intensity, as if she was searching for something in the quote that Jack wasn’t seeing.

Jeeny: “But don’t you think there’s something to it? The idea that we hide our emotions because we feel like someone’s always looking at us, judging us? People who live their lives in the public eye—actors, politicians, even influencers—they don’t get the luxury of having a bad day. Their emotions are like a performance for everyone. It’s like they’re trapped in a cage of expectations.”

Jack shrugged, looking out the window as if trying to find a way to explain what he felt.

Jack: “Yeah, but it’s not like the rest of us have it any easier. We still have to pretend, too. When you’re in the office, in the middle of a meeting, or even just walking down the street, you can’t just let everything show. It’s the same thing. I mean, it’s all part of living in a society. You have to control your emotions, keep them in check. Everyone’s watching you, even if they’re not famous.”

Jeeny smiled, her eyes softening, but there was a warmth in her voice.

Jeeny: “But here’s the thing, Jack—what happens when you can’t keep it in anymore? What happens when you finally break, and you’re alone in your car, stuck in traffic, and suddenly your anger, your sadness, your happiness just comes pouring out? It’s like that little bubble is the only place left where you can breathe without someone else seeing you. Do you think that’s healthy?”

Jack’s fingers tightened on the remote, his gaze narrowing slightly. He paused, weighing her words.

Jack: “I don’t know… Maybe it’s the only way to let off steam. You can’t just let all your emotions spill out in front of everyone, right? Especially when you’re constantly surrounded by people who want to see you fail, or who have their own judgments. So yeah, maybe that’s when it comes out, in the safety of your car, when it’s just you and the world outside. It’s like your own little universe where no one else can touch you.”

Jeeny nodded, her voice softer now, but with a deep understanding.

Jeeny: “But is that really healthy, Jack? To only feel like you can be real in those private moments? Doesn’t that create a kind of disconnect with the world around you? If we bottle everything up, don’t we lose the chance to be authentic, to truly feel in front of others?”

Jack paused, his fingers loosening their grip on the remote. He leaned back, his tone quieter, more introspective.

Jack: “Maybe. But maybe we don’t have a choice. You can’t just go around showing anger or sadness to everyone. People expect you to be in control, to be the same version of yourself all the time. When you let your guard down, you risk looking weak or vulnerable, and people don’t like that. They prefer the image, the performance. Even if you’re not in the public eye, there’s still that pressure.”

Jeeny’s gaze softened, her voice full of gentle conviction.

Jeeny: “I get it. I really do. But I think there’s a balance. We need to find a way to be honest without being reckless with our emotions. We can’t keep hiding behind our facades, Jack. At some point, that bubble has to burst, and if we’ve kept everything bottled up too long, it can come out in ways we don’t expect—anger in a fight, sadness in silence, or happiness that feels forced. It’s about being able to show who we are without fear.”

Jack stared at her, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. The tension between his inner conflict and her more liberated perspective was palpable.

Jack: “So what, we just stop pretending? Just show everything we feel, no matter who’s watching?”

Jeeny’s eyes were steady, but there was a touch of vulnerability in her voice, like she was revealing something more than just an opinion.

Jeeny: “Not everything, Jack. But some things. Realness isn’t about being constantly vulnerable or oversharing, it’s about finding moments to be honest. To allow yourself the freedom to feel what you’re feeling and to share that with the right people, in the right way. It’s like finding that balance between what’s safe and what’s true.”

Jack exhaled, the weight of her words settling in the room like the quiet after a storm. The traffic outside continued its endless hum, a reminder of the world that was always moving, always watching.

Host: The room grew still as Jack and Jeeny both sat in their thoughts. Outside, the city murmured, but inside, the words hung in the air—about the bubble of protection, the tension between performance and authenticity, and the realization that in a world of constant observation, perhaps the hardest thing was simply to allow yourself to be seen.