The older you get, the less you should care about what other
people think.
I’ve been
learning and absorbing this, both in my own experiences and in other reflections
from various bloggers and thinkers. There comes a point in every adult life
where you realize that you’re no longer living in a bubble; you’re in control
of what you do with your time, your energy, and your heart. You’re not
necessarily surrounded by all the same people who are always doing the same
things, so therefore you’re not saturated in specific culture or way of living.
And even if that’s the case, you have the choice of going with what’s easy or
embracing the awkwardness.
I know this, but it still takes effort to believe, to
practice, and genuinely act on it. For years I’ve lived as an impressionable
person, believing that if a chorus of people told me something (especially if
they were older and family), then they must be right. It never occurred to me
that might be wrong, or they could be neither wrong nor right. It about
perspective more than anything, and mine is one that I’m in the process of
learning to trust and see as valid and worth talking about.
The less you care, the better you become at dealing with
rejection, ignorance, hatred, pain, self-doubt, and so on.
I can agree with this to a point; it’s important to know how
to be resilient, to stand up and keep going (even if it means hobbling for a
little bit). But I’m not sure that giving the finger to those mentioned above
is the answer; people love to rant and complain about how entitled,
self-centered, greedy, and narcissistic this current generation is, but forget
that we’ve grown up in an era where vulnerability and transparency equals
weakness. Our primary education has been through technology and one-sided media
outlets, rather than real-life conversation; when you’re exposed to all these
different view-points and ideas and so on, of course it gets overwhelming. So
you retreat, buying into the lie that if you don’t tell anyone how you really
feel, it will all go away on its own.
But it never does; pretending that you’re immune to being real
and complex only creates disconnection and resentment. I’ve done my damnedest
to convince myself that I’m a lone wolf, but I’m a people person inside and
out. And honestly, are any of us really all that better off alone?
Don’t stop caring, but rather, choose to care differently. I’m
finding that this is two-fold:
One, you stop living in your head and actually let it out.
Sometimes it’s in a journal or sometimes it’s in the presence of another
person, but I have to be able to acknowledge the darkness, the not-so-pretty
stuff in order to make room for what is good.
Vulnerability is both terrifying
and liberating, but I have to be able to talk about All The Things to at least
one person. Silence gives the enemy golden opportunities to fill my mind with BS,
leading me to believe that those I care about would be better off if I wasn’t
around. But when I speak, scream, lament, however it comes out…God uses people
to act as a tender voice, or maybe a bullhorn, to speak truth into my life when
I need it most. Then once I’m done heaving word-vomit (or tears), I take a step
back and am able to see the situation a bit more clearly, because my head isn’t
going in a million different directions.
Two, acknowledge the truth and then do something about it…
We’re all human here, humans who long to be loved and taken
care of. We’re all scared of rejection, of failure, and ultimately wasting our
lives. It seems like in your twenties you have so much to prove, but what about
what you have to offer? What about the gifts you have to share?
It really comes down to this:
People will judge you and criticize you, but the loudest voice
is often the one in your head. I have no qualms admitting that I am often my
own worst enemy.
The only way to get what you want is to ask for it. It might
be through whispered prayers or blunt questions, but ask nonetheless. Looking back
on my younger years, I wish I had done more of it.
What’s the point in going out of your way to get people to
understand? I’m tired of over-explaining and having to justify my intentions,
my desires, and what brings me joy. If I want to go on an adventure or try
something new, I will.
In other words, if you’re by yourself and you want to have a
drink, go out and do it. You’re not the first person to dine alone, and you’re
not the only one who will feel weird about it at first. Friendships can happen
in bars, on street corners, and the most unexpected places. Be open to the
possibilities.
Worry less about having answers and focus more on being
present. I believe in listening and being sensitive to others, but sometimes I
get so sick of tap-dancing around certain subjects because they might be
uncomfortable. Death, suffering, sickness, pain, and depression are all
difficult to cope with, but avoiding them won’t erase the fact that they’re
part of life.
Know when to apologize and when to own who you are. I’m
sensitive. Quirky. Sensual and child-like. They’re all part of me, but they’re
layers that aren’t exactly visible on a daily basis. You can be a social
butterfly and still appreciate taking time for yourself. I call it being an
antrovert.
They all have to be practiced and preached a
thousand times over, always a work in progress.
But that’s the beauty in it, realizing that you don’t necessarily have
to decide just once, and can change and evolve is time goes on.
If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be able to relate to anybody. But
there’s a big difference between caring and putting my livelihood on the backs
of someone else’s opinion.
And it's not a bad thing, being able to show what's important and what matters, versus what is a waste of time. If someone asked me what's really attractive and appealing, especially in relationships...I'd say it's actually giving a damn.
I'm not an acrobat, so I'm not going to act like one. But we're all better together than we are apart.
