When your Old Life becomes someone else’s Internet Sensation.


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Carpinteria 5--Photo by Alicia Elkins

The vision was grand.

In the winter of 2009-2010, Matthew and I had just reunited after a college breakup three years earlier, and we wanted to build a life together.

I was living in New Mexico, working at a job that made me feel like I’d prematurely descended into middle age. Matthew had just found his way out to California after walking off a food service job in Yellowstone National Park because he refused to wear the dorky hat that was part of the uniform.

Neither of us wanted people telling us what to do.

We hatched a plan for me to join him in Carpinteria, where he was working on an avocado ranch. Matthew had recently become obsessed with yurts, the traditional dwelling of Mongolian nomads and upper-middle-class hippies, and we envisioned building a large one on the ranch and living in it for a few years.

He joined me for a few months in New Mexico that winter, and we spent hours planning our future life. We relearned trigonometry and drew up plans. We even built a scale model of the yurt out of coffee stirrers and thumbtacks, fretting over it at the dining room table. We imagined filling our future home with Turkish rugs, chandeliers, and a woodstove. Finally, in April, it was time. I quit my job, we packed up our things, and drove across the desert. The first night, we lay in a tent under a palm tree and listened to owls and coyotes echoing across the canyon. We were really doing it.

Almost immediately, I discovered that my Northern European skin wasn’t made for near-constant sun exposure, and I became covered in blisters. The palm tree above our tent turned out to be a rat hotel whose residents chewed holes through our belongings. We worked long hours on the farm and sold lemons and avocados at area farmers’ markets.

The markets were a fantasy. Most of the produce was grown by Mexican immigrants, but most of the vendors looked like me. Women strolled through the markets after their yoga classes to buy fruit for their smoothies, likely imagining that I had ascended a rustic ladder at sunrise and plucked a few lemons just for them. Trustafarians loitered by the stalls saying things like, “No worries,” and “It’s all good.”

This infuriated me because I was actually very worried, things weren’t all good, and didn’t they realize that these markets were an illusion? I had quit my salaried job, was 3,000 miles away from my family in Connecticut, lived in a tent with rats, and was covered in sores because I was literally allergic to my life. I had worries.

Carpinteria 1--Photo Credit Matthew Kai-Uve

But life started to have a rhythm, and I even developed what, in the right light, might be called a tan. Matthew was made for the sun, and had turned an enviable shade of bronze. He even got natural golden highlights in his hair, slowly transforming into Tom Hanks at the end of Castaway.

We’d decided that building a yurt was less of a priority than having places to cook and bathe, so after completing the large platform that the yurt would sit on, we built a kitchen structure, complete with propane stove and cold-water sink. We found a pair of used eight-foot-tall glass doors, likely from a mansion in Montecito that was being renovated, and made a palatial entrance below the corrugated tin roof. I hung a pepper ristra from New Mexico on a beam, along with our collection of skillets. We lugged a cast-iron tub to the property and connected it to a solar-powered hot water heater of Matthew’s design that even kind of worked.

We continued toiling that way for the rest of the summer, spending every hour of daylight when we weren’t working and every dollar we made building our home.

It was a difficult time. My dad’s sister died the first month we were there, and I deeply missed my family. We didn’t have a social life, because we were working all the time and didn’t have any money. The couple who employed us and whose land we were living on sent us mixed messages about whether they even wanted us there, and we were losing our battle with the rats. They haunted my dreams.

By the time we decided to leave that September, we had just finished the framing for the yurt. We set it up for the first time as the sun was setting, with our dilapidated tent sitting inside of it. It was beautiful.

Then the next day we took it down and left forever.

We crammed what we had into and on top of our two-door Honda Civic and started driving east, passing western wildfires and chugging slowly over the Rockies, barely breaking 25 miles an hour on the inclines because of our heavy load. I remember the relief I felt the night after we’d driven across the Great Plains, opening the car door to the pulsing sound of late-summer insect life that doesn’t exist in the desert. The humidity of the east coast felt like a warm embrace.

After we left California, there was no way to know what had become of the home we had made there. Since we’d parted from the landowners on somewhat awkward terms, we didn’t even try to stay in touch. As the years passed, I imagined our little compound returning to a state of nature, bleaching to bone in the sun.

The story of that summer became the way I made sense of our relationship, one that ended three years after we’d first pitched our tent under the palm tree. We had built something beautiful with great difficulty. It had caused me pain but also filled me with an aliveness I have not felt since. When the time came to leave it behind, we knew it, and did what we needed to do. I haven’t seen Matthew once since we parted ways in 2013, and we don’t speak. Time passes, and I make sense of it on my own.

But sometimes your memories become entangled with others’ dreams. Recently I was getting a beer with a friend, and she pulled up a picture she’d stumbled upon on Instagram.

My heart stopped. Two women were standing in the doorway of our kitchen structure in the shadow of the palm tree, dwarfed by the majestic eight-foot glass doors.

“About to cook up a storm in Mary’s outdoor kitchen,” the caption read. More pictures on the feed showed closeups. “Many dreamy afternoons are spent cooking in this outdoor kitchen,” gushed one. “This is freaking magical,” said one commenter, following with five heart emojis. “My dream,” said another. Nearly a thousand people had liked the photo.

A photo posted by The Tiny Mess (@the_tiny_mess) on


My thumbs tapping furiously, I discovered that “Mary’s outdoor kitchen” had been featured in the most recent issue of a food magazine, in a piece that described a book project of Mary’s where the kitchen would also be featured.

The photo spread showed friends gathering for dinner in slanting sunlight around a table that Matthew had built for us, a red chair we’d left behind artfully positioned nearby, and our kitchen structure forming the scenic backdrop.

I was dumbfounded.

Instagram was launched less than two weeks after Matthew and I had landed in Durham, humbled and ready to try another kind of life. In the years since, the app has turned into a bustling forum for lifestyle fetishists. The home we had struggled to build together had become another thing for internet strangers to gush over as they ate at their desks during their lunch breaks and imagined another life.

Was I angry? What was I feeling? I wished I could call Matthew to process it with him, but our breakup, after we had spent the better part of a painful decade hurting and loving each other, wasn’t the kind that naturally led to friendship.

I sent Mary a direct message on Instagram.

“I’m so curious what it’s like now, and how you ended up there,” I wrote. “I would love to connect.”

I never got a response. Part of me was reflexively defensive, like this person had quietly slipped into the old life I had left behind and made it Instagram-ready, implying by omission that she had conceived of the whole thing and built it on bare ground. But how could she know who I am? What did I expect? Mary actually seemed like a nice person trying to live a beautiful and sustainable life as she worked on a cool-sounding book project, posting on social media all the while, like we all do. And don’t most of us live in someone else’s home, when you think about it?

I’m 30 now, so I entered adulthood at the dawn of the social-media revolution. Sometimes I imagine that, before the internet, the narratives people told themselves and others about the past were simpler. You fell in love, you parted ways, and you watched that person recede into the distance of your memory. You receded into the distance of his memory too, and if your diverging perspectives offered very different views of your time together, so what? You could keep your story, and he could keep his. The internet wasn’t going to intrude with pictures of his new girlfriend and strangers living in the house you built together.

I had my own story about that summer, and the end of that story was that what we had built had melted into the landscape after we couldn’t make it work. It had dissolved as our relationship dissolved because that’s how I needed the story to end. It wasn’t meant to end up on someone else’s lifestyle blog.

But Instagram itself is the ultimate venue for cleaned-up narratives. Things that muddy the view are pushed out of the frame (I wonder if Mary has to use that nasty Port-A-Potty like we did, and if the humming silicone-implant factory is still on the other side of the chain-link fence from the lemon trees).

We have always tried to make our stories more simple, more beautiful, more in our favor, and Instagram has just made that easier to do. We crop, we forget, we lie, we omit, and what’s left is an alluring story about the life we wish we had.


Author: Margaret Hennessey

Images: Courtesy of Alicia Elkins, Matthew Kai-Uve

Editor: Catherine Monkman


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Ban Anna Oct 27, 2016 10:25pm

It's a well-written and interesting account of discovery, self-reflection, and dredging up of past memories and emotions that weren't fully dealt with and so lingered into the present. Full disclosure: I know and adore Mary and like many others commenting here feel protective of her young sweet soul, and I know that she was very hurt by this narrative. I browsed through the comments and I fully understand that you were only exploring your own emotions and thoughts and realized that it was some interesting food-for-thought. My husband is a writer so I can understand that some of the best creativity comes from baring all the good, the bad, and the ugly, and being authentic and genuinely real in that exploration and sharing. But, reading the comments I think you're quick to dismiss any responsibility for the upset that you did cause to this person you don't know, with a, "it's not about her it's about me - namaste, may that dissipate your anger." I would think that you should be able to place yourself in her shoes for a hot minute and see how violating this must feel for her. She is only a character in your mind and narrative, one that you had to blow some air into to shape, and so you did...but it was cast with negativity for the most part (reread your entire story from this perspective and maybe you'll see some truth in this). The problem is that she is actually a real person, with real feelings and sensitivity. You could have kept her as more of a character and more anonymous, but instead you stated her name several times and posted a photo from her Instagram feed, complete with handle name. Who is really being sensational here? I think you'd actually be surprised to know that you and Mary have probably shared very similar struggles. She's been working really hard trying to piece it together, and that most certainly doesn't come without a lot of struggles along the way, but she manages to be guided by positivity. So yes, I take issue with the bit about Mary. I too would feel incredibly violated to find out someone else, whom I don't know, has written about me and posted it on the internet! But that being said, I want to be fair, and I do think it's a relatable piece that many would respond positively to (when not knowing and reacting to the part about Mary) - just to be able to see some normalcy in admitting vulnerable ugly feelings and defeat. It's crushing to have our dreams and ideals crumble, but it's also a gift in that it's a learning experience. We all have a lot of work to do on ourselves in this lifetime.

David Gonzalez Oct 21, 2016 5:05am

Young lady, leave my family out of your failures.

Brina Carey Oct 20, 2016 11:26pm

This article is quite interesting. We definitely all struggle with looking at constantly curated lifestyles on social media, where truth is omitted and reality is filtered. However, Mary is not one of these people. If her life comes off as too good to be true - well it's because she sees her life as good. Great. She is grateful for what she has, embraces simplicity, finds joy in the small things, and has a gracious and selfless heart. Instead of feeling bitter, which the tone of this article was, I hope your writing this has helped you to find peace with your story and joy in the fact that others have built on the foundation you created and have found the happiness and beauty in its weathered past.

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 20, 2016 9:38pm

Tee JoAnn Gonzalez I read a lot of anger in your words, and I'm sorry reading my essay caused you pain. It's clear you care about Mary very much, which I can understand after talking to her on the phone for over an hour yesterday! She is a beautiful person. I responded to several other comments below, and I hope what I wrote in them give you some clarity on what my intention was. Sending much peace to you.

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 20, 2016 9:35pm

Natalie Russell Thank you for your comment. I wrote more about what I intended in that passage in replies to comments above. But the short version is that I intended to analyze my own (ugly) reaction to the news that someone (and, I've since learned, many other people!) was living in a space I had left behind long ago. Many of the comments people have left here in the last 24 hours ("YOU were the one who left it behind!" etc) are exactly right. I didn't intend for the essay to imply that Mary had wronged me in any way; I intended to be honest about the many reactions I had to the news and challenge myself and readers on whether those reactions were justified and honest. Conclusion: many of them weren't! I hope you will read the essay again with this added perspective, and consider your reaction as well.

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 20, 2016 9:28pm

Thank you for these thoughtful words, Natalie! You're right, I never ever intended to portray Mary negatively. Actually, I didn't intend to portray *her* in any way at all...what I was trying to write about were my own reactions to a situation in which I didn't have all the facts. I couldn't have written about Mary, because I didn't know her. She and I had a great conversation on the phone yesterday, and you're right, she is wonderful. I was so saddened to learn that I had caused her pain. I wrote a little more about this in my responses to comments above. Thank you again for your kindness and thoughtful response.

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 20, 2016 9:22pm

I'm sad that you feel that way Lindsey, but receiving negative comments was one of the risks I took by writing about my feelings and posting them on the internet for all to see and critique. In the section that mentions Mary, I was attempting to look straight on at the ugly reactions I was having to the news that what I had built was being lived in by someone else. I was writing about my own less-than-saintly feelings of being unjustifiably territorial. We all have initial reactions to surprising developments in our lives (as some of these comments can attest), and I can only hope that I can recognize and name my own reaction to something, consider it, and see if that reaction is the one that serves me and those around me the best. Sending peace to you.

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 20, 2016 9:15pm

Thank you so much for your thoughtful words, Nina. Mary and I had a great conversation on the phone yesterday. I was so surprised and horrified to learn that I had caused her pain by writing about my own feelings, as they unfolded, as I tried to make reconcile what I had assumed (that what Matthew and I had built had just rotted away--as silly and unlikely as that sounds, that is what I thought) with the reality. Mary shared pictures with me of the other tenants who have lived there and improved upon it over the years, and it was so amazing to see...I never would have thought that so many other people would get to enjoy that space! We ended the conversation with plans to be in touch, and I am grateful that we connected, even if the initial collision was somewhat painful for both of us. Thank you again for your kindness in sharing your thoughts about the essay and your experience knowing Mary. PS Mary also told me that she doesn't have to use the nasty port-a-potty like we did! I was certainly glad to hear that. :)

Natalie Russell Oct 20, 2016 7:29pm

Catherine Monkman "Part of me was reflexively defensive, like this person had quietly slipped into the old life I had left behind and made it Instagram-ready, implying by omission that she had conceived of the whole thing and built it on bare ground" this excerpt is just one example of how this article came off like somewhat of a personal attack onto the new inhabitant and her intentions with the home. The implication that Mary is using what the writer created in order to display a certain image on instagram can easily be taken as offensive. Anyone who knows Mary is quick to defend because we truly know that that was NOT her intention whatsoever, and that her life and love of that property has nothing to do with her image online. not trying to stoke any fire, just hope i can lend some insight as to how the tone in this article came off to many of us out here <3

Catherine Monkman Oct 20, 2016 6:53pm

I think you missed the point entirely. ;) This is not about Mary or her business. The author says nothing hurtful whatsoever. It's full of personal struggle, incredible insight, and a really good lesson for all of us. "But how could she know who I am? What did I expect? Mary actually seemed like a nice person trying to live a beautiful and sustainable life as she worked on a cool-sounding book project, posting on social media all the while, like we all do. And don’t most of us live in someone else’s home, when you think about it?" The above is from within the article. Did you read the whole piece? ~ Cat, eleditor.

Elephant Journal Oct 20, 2016 6:46pm

Tee JoAnn Gonzalez Thank you for commenting—not the most mindful of comments. This was a beautiful story with a greater message that you may have totally missed. Please note that we don't appreciate spamming the comments section with the same comment over and over again. Once is enough. I will remove the other 10.

Lindsey Mickelson Oct 20, 2016 6:13pm

This article is very hurtful. After reading, all I can think of is, isn't it a beautiful thing that the space u built brought light and happiness to someone else's life? She looks like she is working really hard on pursuing her dreams as a baker/chef, and it's hard to get publicity for your small business, and she did it! And here u are, writing this article that is hurtful, degrading, and insensitive about someone u don't know. It makes me very sad that u would take the time to write this article. She is living her dreams and I hope u are too

Natalie Russell Oct 20, 2016 6:02pm

I think your article is a perfect example of what you are trying to expose through it...I believe a lot of the way one's social media is portrayed depends on the person observing it. Mary is such an amazing person, hard-working, life-loving and respectful of everything and everyone around her. It could be argued she is one of the few on social media where what you see is truly what you get-- though through your perception and personal projections she has been interpreted as the opposite of that. Through your article and social meda portrayal of this situation an inaccurate image has been created of this amazing person. I'm curious if that was your intention? I doubt it, so this could be a wonderful lesson to take a deep breath, and understand that what YOU see and receive from others' social media (and beyond!) is not necessarily that persons intention or responsibility. All of that said I'd like to send love and thanks to you for the space you created. It has been loved, it has sheltered and provided beautiful meals and smiles and laughter. My sisters joined me there for my Blessingway and to honor and shower my baby-in-belly and myself with sisterly love. Mary has poured her heart and soul into that place and is so grateful and thankful for it, for what you created...isnt that such a beautiful thing?! I hope that this experience can help you to see the beauty in release and acceptance. To release any anger or resentment towards that land and space (I get it, the dream was not what you expected, it can be tough to rough it out!) rather than pass it onto the person who happened to fall into it and blossom years after it housed yourself. Sending you sunshine and avocado-lemon hugs from this beautiful land we've all shared <3

Lindsey Mickelson Oct 20, 2016 5:17pm

I'm totally dumbfounded by your story. U are very hurtful to write this article and I don't really understand what your point is. Can we be happy for others who are living their dream? The woman who now lives in your old home who looks like she is working really hard on living her own dreams does not deserve this insensitive degrading public attack from u. This makes me really sad u would take the time to write this.

Nina Moore Oct 20, 2016 6:43am

Growing up with Mary, I feel this story is misconstrued. She's not about the perfect, but embraces the imperfections of life. She teaches others about healthy, and natural lifestyles with passion. Hence, reasoning for her and her business partner starting "The Tiny Mess." It's about real people, in real kitchens, in a non glamorous lifestyle. They are creative and crafty with their surroundings, and enjoy the simplicity. Although I admit, this lifestyle isn't for everyone, not even for myself, but I truly admire what they do and their beliefs as it brings balance and prospective into my life from time to time. If you asked me to live out in the middle of no where, with no bathroom, I'd never go for it, but that's just how Mary wants to her life to be. Instead of saying how nasty her portable bathroom is, she shares how her waste is the way the world used to be and should still be, instead of all our excess garbage and plumbing we've created in this toxic environment we live in today. During my visits with Mary at her tiny trailer parked near the kitchen, we sit and enjoy the surroundings or pick avocados for lunch from the land. We'll even cook in a kitchen filled with ants, but that doesn't seem to bother us. Sitting on the deck watching the sunset countless times, I have never once noticed the sound of a plantation in the background, but maybe that's because that's not what my focus is on. I hope you come to find peace with the structure you began building, and are grateful that many other tenants have come and gone since you've lived there, and added on their own personal touches and structures for the next residences in the future. As we are grateful it's still there, and appreciate what you and Matthew started.

Mindy Wilson Jones Oct 20, 2016 5:13am

Sounds to me as though you're a heartbroken, selfish and jealous child. No one told you to leave...obviously it was your lack of courage to defeat the rats. You built four walls with a tin roof. High five to you � Your story would have been much more enjoyable to read had you not put an innocent person on "blast" for nothing. Don't be a hater because Mary has become successful. Her success has nothing to do with what "you built". She too has worked tirelessly for what she has accomplished. My suggestion to you would be to do more investigating before posting ridiculous stories. Mary was not the only person to live in "your space" after you left. To be correct...she is the SEVENTH person to live there after you. Just because a few photos were shot in "your space" has nothing to do with your heartbreak. Maybe your ex had the right idea. She never took anything from you and never will. You left willingly....just remember that. Go be your own success. #Mary's sister �️

Summer Nelson Oct 18, 2016 11:12pm

Great story!

Shiraz Bosman Oct 14, 2016 8:33pm

Wow. LOVED this!

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 14, 2016 5:29pm

Thank you Vicki! Sharing my inner thoughts with strangers on the internet is new and scary to me, but your kind words give me courage! Thank you.

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 14, 2016 5:27pm

Thank you so much, Tom! I think of you guys often. Much love to you all. To endless feasts and unexpected joys!

Vicki Rivard Oct 14, 2016 2:13pm

This is so beautifully written and so incredibly powerful, on so many levels. It's the best thing I've read on ej in a long, long time. THANK YOU. <3

Thomas Porter Oct 14, 2016 1:15pm

Hi from youir uncle Tom. Gale and I just read your story. It was so heart felt and so telling of life and it's unexpected turns. You are a wonder to me how you handle your adventerous life, it so reminds me of my younger days and perhaps my life as it is now. full of unexpected joys. I hope you have endless feasts. I hope you continue to put pencil to paper.

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 14, 2016 3:38am

Thanks for your kind words, Karyn!

Karyn Leigh Oct 13, 2016 8:52pm

Thank you Margaret and Elephant. What an honest, thoughtful, poetic piece about life & relationship in the age of social media. Thank you!

Margaret Carpenter Hennessey Oct 13, 2016 5:03pm

Thank you, Tammy. It helped me a lot to write it, and I'm glad it resonates with others as well.

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Margaret Hennessey

Margaret Hennessey is the owner of Hennessey Handmade, a handmade accessories brand based in Durham, NC. You can check out her latest work on her website, or find her on Instagram @hennesseyhandmade. Bio photo courtesy of R. K. Oliver.