It's interesting--this concept of what people think of you. And of course, what you think of yourself. I find myself unwillingly confronted with this every day...at school, at home, with friends, when I'm alone, when I'm running, when I eat. It's never-ending. Why do people care so much about what others think of them? Why is it that even when I know I don't care, I still find myself wanting them to appreciate who I am? Why should I care? What can they offer me?
It reminds me of this book I read as a child called You Are Special by Max Lucado. While it definitely has religious undertones, one of the primary things it addresses is the fear we humans seem to have of other humans; always wanting to impress others and be accepted by them. Punchinello, the main character, is a doll (much like Pinocchio), who lives in a world where all the other dolls/puppets do the same thing all day long: label each other with either a grey dot or a golden star. To be given a golden star is to be recognized as having a special talent or gift, like good looks or a trick. On the other hand, a grey dot is given if a puppet is not special, talented, or pretty. Punchinello lives in a superficial world where it is what you are on the outside that counts, rather than the inside. To make a long story short, Punchinello is a sweet, but ugly puppet who only ever gets grey dots. After a series of insecure moments, Punchinello gets caught up in the sticker frenzy in order to feel loved and get golden stickers, when in the end, he realizes that it is not their approval that matters most. I feel like I go up and down, much like Punchinello. I can know deep down inside that I don't really care what people think about me, using logic to reason that I'll never see them again, if they judge I don't like them anyway, or I just really don't care about them, so why should I want them to care about me?
For a number of reasons I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I find that amidst the business and chaos of school, college applications, family, and running, I start to lose myself. I mean, I'm still down there wayyy deep inside, but there begins to mount a pile of junk on top of it...so much that I can't see it anymore. I need quiet. I need peace. And I want them. I hate this cyclical compromising of myself for things of much less importance. While I value school and all the other things I mentioned, they are meaningless without a true sense of myself! It's ridiculous this pattern I've gotten into. Summers are beautiful, but as soon as my favorite season rolls around (autumn), I get bogged down by the superficial worries of the world. I want to be approved by my teachers, friends, parents, admissions officers, counselors, coaches...you name it. But I lose my own approval. Then, I'm not happy with who I am.
I am in search of a balance. A balance of myself and my dreams, and the means through which I will achieve them. Everything I do now is important, but most important is knowing who I am...particularly as I prepare to leave and live on my own. I should not worry about what others think of me. Not as much. It's when I listen to my disney playlist on iTunes (which by the way, runs straight through without repetition for 4.8 hours), play with my FOUR little brothers, stretch after practice, run alone in silence along the canal at 6 on a Saturday morning, read a fantasy book I read when I was in 6th grade again, and eat food, that I can feel myself sprout and reemerge again. It's like spring! I want to feel myself again. I want to run free again. I want to breathe deeply again. I want to have confidence again. I want to clear away the crap that's clogged my mind and allow the rays of self to shine through. I'm tired of feeling tired, and I want to feel at home again with myself, so I will. And writing about it was the first step...like Punchinello on the last page, my first grey dot is about to fall...I am dropping my worries one by one until I am one once again. thanks -j
It reminds me of this book I read as a child called You Are Special by Max Lucado. While it definitely has religious undertones, one of the primary things it addresses is the fear we humans seem to have of other humans; always wanting to impress others and be accepted by them. Punchinello, the main character, is a doll (much like Pinocchio), who lives in a world where all the other dolls/puppets do the same thing all day long: label each other with either a grey dot or a golden star. To be given a golden star is to be recognized as having a special talent or gift, like good looks or a trick. On the other hand, a grey dot is given if a puppet is not special, talented, or pretty. Punchinello lives in a superficial world where it is what you are on the outside that counts, rather than the inside. To make a long story short, Punchinello is a sweet, but ugly puppet who only ever gets grey dots. After a series of insecure moments, Punchinello gets caught up in the sticker frenzy in order to feel loved and get golden stickers, when in the end, he realizes that it is not their approval that matters most. I feel like I go up and down, much like Punchinello. I can know deep down inside that I don't really care what people think about me, using logic to reason that I'll never see them again, if they judge I don't like them anyway, or I just really don't care about them, so why should I want them to care about me?
For a number of reasons I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I find that amidst the business and chaos of school, college applications, family, and running, I start to lose myself. I mean, I'm still down there wayyy deep inside, but there begins to mount a pile of junk on top of it...so much that I can't see it anymore. I need quiet. I need peace. And I want them. I hate this cyclical compromising of myself for things of much less importance. While I value school and all the other things I mentioned, they are meaningless without a true sense of myself! It's ridiculous this pattern I've gotten into. Summers are beautiful, but as soon as my favorite season rolls around (autumn), I get bogged down by the superficial worries of the world. I want to be approved by my teachers, friends, parents, admissions officers, counselors, coaches...you name it. But I lose my own approval. Then, I'm not happy with who I am.
I am in search of a balance. A balance of myself and my dreams, and the means through which I will achieve them. Everything I do now is important, but most important is knowing who I am...particularly as I prepare to leave and live on my own. I should not worry about what others think of me. Not as much. It's when I listen to my disney playlist on iTunes (which by the way, runs straight through without repetition for 4.8 hours), play with my FOUR little brothers, stretch after practice, run alone in silence along the canal at 6 on a Saturday morning, read a fantasy book I read when I was in 6th grade again, and eat food, that I can feel myself sprout and reemerge again. It's like spring! I want to feel myself again. I want to run free again. I want to breathe deeply again. I want to have confidence again. I want to clear away the crap that's clogged my mind and allow the rays of self to shine through. I'm tired of feeling tired, and I want to feel at home again with myself, so I will. And writing about it was the first step...like Punchinello on the last page, my first grey dot is about to fall...I am dropping my worries one by one until I am one once again. thanks -j
I think about this topic all the time. I wonder if there is an evolutionary explanation for why people have such an obsession with what others think of them; could it function similarly to a bird's preening? Regardless, I like this post; it is well-written and refreshingly honest. The one phrase that really stuck out to me was "cyclical compromising of myself for things of much less importance." That is wonderful way to word that idea.
ReplyDeleteThank you! It felt good to write that, but it was difficult not to know how people would respond to my honesty about recurring insecurities and anxiety. I think you raise an interesting question though about the possibility of it being a part of our evolution. However, I think that it actually goes against our natural instinct and will to care about what others think of us. Unlike preening, I do not think the habit of fretting over what others think of us helps "maintain" who we are, and I certainly do not think it keeps us healthy. In fact, I would argue that it does just the opposite: it tears us down. I see this human habit as being more similar to the pygmy goats. The males urinate on themselves to attract mates...so in essence, they hurt themselves (or at least their ego) in order to attract the attention and seek approval of their lady friends. :) Not a perfect analogy, but just another idea.
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