I've always wanted to not care what other people thought of me. At times I convinced myself I'd succeeded, but then I'd meet someone who actually didn't care and I realized just how blind I was.
I recently finished reading a duology, Carve the Mark & The Fates Divide by Veronica Roth. The amount to which I related to various characters is why I love the author, but in particular one stood out to me. Her name is Cisi. In the book, everybody has what's called a currentgift. They're all unique, and it's like a superpower. Whoever's narrating the given chapter, however, will often at some point bemoan the drawbacks of theirs (and for good reason). Cisi's currentgift is comforting people. she can emit an aura of, say, waves crashing, or fresh laundry, whatever she thinks the other person will find soothing. She cannot, however, intentionally make anyone feel uncomfortable, to the extent that she physically can't cry around other people, can't scream in pain if injured, and literally chokes if she tries to disagree with someone.
I do not have superpowers. I do, however, feel my throat physically restrict if I try to argue something, even trivial. Constantly while in public, or even at home and with other people, my brain will be telling me what everyone else is thinking of me and, funny thing, it's always negative.
This is a known thing in the world of mental health, and let me just say that the brain is spewing bullshit. Unless you can actually read minds, you don't know what other people are thinking, and, while it's good to be sensitive to the needs and opinions of other people to navigate society, being supersensitive to their minor whims is not going to work.
Mind reading: You believe you know what others are thinking, failing to take consider other more realistic possibilities. (According to Dr. Hsia of OC Anxiety Center)
During this quarantine, my dog still needs exercise. Technically, so do I, but the motivating factor is my dog. So, every day we head over to a nearby field so he can run around. Sometimes there are other people and dogs there, but not usually. The other day there was someone else there and, maintaining our distance, we were chatting for a while. You know, as people do. Upon returning home and washing my hands, I glanced up in the mirror to see that I had the remnants of a chocolate muffin on my face from before the field. Like, a big smear of chocolate on my chin. I was so embarrassed. But then something occurred to me: a lot of people would have said something about it, and the other dog owner didn't. Likely, then, either she didn't notice, she didn't care, or she was too nervous to point it out. None of those options actually reflect negatively on me, so I'm fine.
This was a breakthrough moment for me and has taken years of counselling and practise. That said, it is possible to get there. From that point, I was able to laugh it off, wash my face, and go about my day.
I still get paralyzed trying to bring up a difficult subject for fear of what the other person will obviously think, but I'm getting there. The important thing is to give other people credit.
Remember, not telling someone something because you're trying to protect them, is like saying 'I don't think you can handle this, so I'll handle it for you'. In most situations, it's better to spend that energy finding the right way to tell them.
And if you run into me at the dog park, feel free to let me know there's chocolate on my face.
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