Communication is at the heart of every healthy relationship. Yet many couples struggle with expressing how they feel and what they need, especially during difficult conversations. As an English-speaking couples counsellor in Paris, one of the powerful tools I introduce to couples is something called positive communication.
Standing Outside the Frame: Reflections on Belonging, Violence, and Cultural Gaze
03/17/2026
This post is the sixth part of Batshit Crazy and Weirdly Touching: Notes on Culture, Violence, and Identity, a six-part series where I explore how the things we grew up watching, hearing, and laughing at quietly shape who we become.
What do you see when you take a step back from the screen?
That's the question I keep circling back to in this series. From Porter Wagoner's deadpan delivery of murder ballads, to the warm family memories nestled inside songs about stabbing your wife's lover, to the deeper stories we inherit about masculinity, justice, and whose pain matters — this whole exploration has been about pulling back from the frame and noticing what else is going on.
It's about noticing the frame itself.
Some frames are cultural. Others are emotional. Some are soaked in nostalgia or shame. But all of them shape the stories we're told — and the stories we tell about ourselves.
Family Entertainment, But Make It Violent
Let's go back, one more time, to Porter Wagoner and The Cold Hard Facts of Life. A man surprises his wife with champagne. Instead, he finds her cheating and murders her lover. The end.
It's not just the brutality of the narrative that sticks with me. It's the deadpan delivery. The unflinching camera. The cheerful rhinestones. The way the song was presented, not as satire or critique, but as part of family television. A catchy tune that — for some people — carries warm memories of childhood.
Once you start looking for it, you'll find this strange tension in other places too.
In Italian opera, where betrayal and murder are staples of the romantic plot.
In Mexican corridos and narcocorridos, which detail gangland killings with balladic flair.
In American action movies, where explosive violence is often paired with jokes, cool catchphrases, and popcorn.
In K-dramas, where trauma and grief are tenderly drawn but can be tied up in melodrama that flirts with tragedy as entertainment.
In religious stories across cultures, where martyrdom and punishment are elevated as sacred.
Violence, it turns out, is not just tolerated in many cultures — it's woven into our myths, our humour, our lullabies. Sometimes it's moralised. Sometimes aestheticised. Sometimes it's just there, unremarked upon, part of the wallpaper.
What does that do to us?
The Outsider's Gaze
Living between cultures teaches you to spot what insiders don't see.
When you grow up in a place, you inherit its logic by osmosis. You don't question why this is funny, or why that's shameful. You don't notice the ghosts in the room — until you enter another room that has different ones.
That's the strange gift of outsiderhood. It can be lonely, yes. Disorienting, often. But it also sharpens your gaze.
It teaches you to:
Notice what is assumed
Ask where that assumption comes from
Choose what you want to keep, reinterpret, or discard
This is true whether you're examining your media diet, your emotional reactions, your cultural heritage, or your family lore. The outsider's gaze isn't about snobbery or detachment — it's about curiosity. It's about asking better questions.
What We Carry, What We Leave
So what do we do with all this?
With the stories we grew up with that now feel weird or even wrong?
With the cultural habits that shaped us before we had a say?
With the contradictions we notice now — like watching a murder ballad in a sequin suit and feeling weirdly moved?
We curate. We reflect. We re-story.
That doesn't mean rejecting everything. It doesn't mean you can't enjoy Porter Wagoner, or action movies, or that twisted bedtime story your grandpa used to tell. But it does mean giving yourself permission to look at them clearly — and choose how you relate to them now.
Maybe that song helped someone feel seen. Maybe that film glorifies something that needs to be questioned. Maybe both are true. The point isn't to cancel the past. It's to see it clearly enough to grow beyond it.
Reflection Questions
What media did you grow up with that seems strange now? Why?
What cultural values were embedded in your childhood stories, songs, or family "jokes"?
When have you felt like an outsider — and what did it help you see more clearly?
Are there beliefs or values you inherited that you now want to examine or reshape?
What do you want to pass on, reinterpret, or retire altogether from your cultural inheritance?
Activity: Media Memory Map
Choose a few key pieces of media that shaped you as a child — a song, a movie, a story, even an advertisement. For each one, jot down:
What it was
What emotions it evoked
What cultural values or assumptions it conveyed
How you relate to it now
Then ask yourself: What does this tell me about the world I grew up in?
And what kind of world do I want to help shape now?
Batshit Crazy and Weirdly Touching is a blog series about the strange, sometimes unsettling ways that popular culture, violence, and inherited stories shape our sense of self. Inspired by a single YouTube video of Porter Wagoner singing about murder on family television, the series unpacks how our childhood entertainment reflects deeper cultural values — and how becoming aware of those values can help us choose who we want to be. Read all six parts here.
Mother's Day (in France, La Fête des Mères) is a moment of celebration, but also one that brings a complicated mix of feelings for many people.
Many people go through life feeling a little unsure of who they really are. They might describe themselves as adaptable, easy-going, or flexible. And while these can be strengths, there's sometimes a deeper story behind them—especially if they're accompanied by feelings of resentment, confusion, or disconnection.