Worrying About What Others Think

I must have spent what equates to years of my life worrying about what people think about me. Certainly as a teenager I wanted to feel accepted by my peers in some way. And then in adulthood along came social media, where ‘likes’ and ‘thumbs up’ became far more important in my life than they should have. In job interviews, social settings and on social media, I wanted to be liked and wanted.

But then it stopped.

I didn’t suddenly turn into a person who didn’t care about what others thought about me, but I did become very aware of my change in attitude on whether or not somebody liked my personality, accepted my dress sense, my political opinions and my interests. I care, but don’t cry about it if somebody doesn’t like me for whatever reason. I do me. They can do them.

My ‘resting bitch face’ can be a hindrance. Maybe I can look angry or disinterested when actually that’s just my face! I don’t just walk around with a smile. I need to be approachable in my profession, whether in the gym or in my future projects. Yet I can only continue doing me, otherwise people wouldn’t get me, they’d get fake me.

Did age change my attitude to being accepted or not?! In my experience, older people tend to have less of a filter. Am I just getting old?!

My appearance is deceiving. I’m bald, so I shave whatever bits of hair grows on my head. I weight train and eat a lot, so I am of a larger size. I have tattoos including flags of communist countries, guerilla warfare leaders and football club badges. People might judge me on this. Also, I’m open about my politics. Just the other day a parent at my son’s football match asked me why we chose Portugal to be our next place to live. Without hesitation I said it was because Portugal is in the EU and we want to get out of Brexit Britain. I could have just said ‘For the weather’, but then it wouldn’t be me.

Yes, if I make friends, I can lose them pretty quickly. I just can’t say what I think people might want to hear. And I appreciate transparency in a friend. They can call me a dick if I’m being a dick. No hard feelings. It’s the people that can’t take it when I pull them up on something. It needs to work both ways. I don’t need them as friends. They can fake it elsewhere.

Remaining calm and focussed when I get labelled, misquoted or misrepresented is something that I still have to learn to deal with. After all, I am human with all the same sensitive emotions as the next person. I’m not a robot. But a piece of good advice from author Morgan Richard Olivier is something that I always refer back to.

She said…”Letting people be wrong about you or a situation while keeping your peace and focus is the most misunderstood power move you will ever make.”

You see, becoming comfortable with yourself is one of the greatest super powers that you can possess. You can spend a lifetime trying to impress people. How we look, think and behave are being judged all of the time, and yet, by whose standards?

Will my life be any different if Graham from Dudley gives me an angry face emoji because I am happy to refer to Sam Smith as ‘they/them’ on the internet?

Would I feel any better if I were to explain to Sally on the Co-Op till that I’m not a far right football hooligan, just a follicy challenged lover of Liverpool FC?

I don’t need to explain myself. And you don’t have to explain yourself.