I’m working on a novel about a 32-year-old woman who is deeply insecure but tries to mask it with false bravado. She second-guesses every move but tries to hype herself up by saying, “Go me!” and “I got this,” nearly every chance she gets. When I show small snippets of the novel to a writing group consisting primarily of women around my age, the feedback is positive. They’ve told me it’s highly relatable, either for themselves or because it reminds them of their friends. One woman commented this is the sort of book she’d stay up late reading.
However, when I show small snippets of the novel to a writing group consisting primarily of women around 30 years older than me, the feedback is negative. They compliment the writing itself and praise my strong voice, but hate the character. They say she’s self-indulgent and unlikeable. Same character, different audience.
The novel is very much a work in progress. I haven’t even completed the first draft so I’ll change 10,000 things from now and when I deem it ready for the world so who knows how people will respond at that point? Yet, regardless of the changes I make, the experience reminds me you can’t please everyone all the time and it’s not worth it to try. What strikes a chord with one person will be disharmonious to another. Also, depending on the age and stage of life, the same person will no longer like the thing they once enjoyed!
Likes come and go. Photo by George Pagan III on Unsplash
This happened to me on Saturday night. I went to San Francisco for a play and walked just two blocks from where I used to live near Union Square. It’s a neighborhood filled with hustle and bustle. There are about a million people milling about. Cars are honking, people are chatting, and restaurants are buzzing. When I was 23, I loved Union Square. I wanted to be in the thick of things. My feeling was, “Take me to where the action is!” But now at 38, I don’t want to be where the action is. I want the antithesis of Union Square: a house with a yard on a quiet street.
A friend asked me if there’s anything I miss about living there and I do. I miss the public transportation. I could catch numerous buses and multiple train lines easily whereas now my options are more limited. I miss that part but nothing else. I have zero desire to live in Union Square again but for me at 23, it was a dream come true. People change and their tastes change. Because of that, it’s impossible to please everyone. In marketing, they say if you try to appeal to everyone, you’ll appeal to no one. That’s because your product will become so diluted and bland, no one will be interested.
This principle of “you can’t please everyone” doesn’t only apply to art and commerce. It also applies to life. At this time of year, people are pulled in many different directions. They feel pressured to go to all of the holiday parties, visit their families for 10 days, buy gifts for everyone on their list. They get stretched too thin because they’re worried about displeasing their boss, their family, their friends. But here’s the thing: Someone will always be displeased. It’s just not possible to be everything to everyone and if you try, you’ll wind up burned out and resentful.
The more I recognize someone, or rather many someones, won’t like me, my art, my blog, my behavior, or heck, the way I style my hair, the better off I am because it’s inevitable. It’s not bad or wrong, it’s just a fact of life. It’s probably for this reason you’ve seen the overused quote wrongly attributed to Oscar Wilde that says, “Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken.”
I dream of a world where we remember people like different things. A world where we understand not only do other people have varied tastes, but our tastes change too. A world where we recognize it’s more important to take care of ourselves than to engage in people pleasing. A world where we remember we won’t be able to please everyone.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Yesterday, I watched a woman park in the bus zone for 15 solid minutes. Her car was off, she got out, put her shoes in the trunk, and basically couldn’t care less that she was doing something illegal. I kept thinking she parked in the bus zone because she had car trouble but no, eventually her friend sauntered out of the BART station and the woman started her car – slowly, I might add – and took her sweet time leaving.
I was floored. In that same situation, I know I would have been fidgety, glancing over my shoulder every two seconds waiting for a bus or a cop car to pull up. I can’t help but contrast this woman’s behavior with mine, someone who cares too much.
 Look at this dog! This dog couldn’t care less. |
Last week, I flew home from Vienna where I sat in a window seat. Luckily, there was no one in the middle seat, but there was a woman in the aisle seat. I have to go to the bathroom approximately every hour, and on a six-hour flight, it can be obnoxious for the people who have to keep getting up for me. I noticed the woman started getting huffy and I began caring about what she thought of me. A stranger. A person I will never see again. I wanted this woman to like me, to not get upset with me, to hold me in positive regard, and so I resolved to use the bathroom less. That is, until I realized my bladder wasn’t having any of that and got up anyway in as polite and gracious a way as I could muster.
The experience got me thinking about how I care sooo much about how other people are responding to me. I’m over being judged for how I look, speak, and dress – for the most part – but I’m still sensitive to how others react to me. If I’m doing something that causes someone any negative emotion, I want to modulate my behavior immediately to please them, even if it means discomfort for me. Um, this is nicht sehr gut, as they say in German. I can’t spend my life constantly trying to please other people. The very act of being alive means I’m going to ruffle some feathers.
I can’t try to shrink myself or shirk my own needs in order for other people to like me. I can’t disappear or live in a bubble. I’m an adult and as an adult I need to take care of myself, even if that means disappointing someone else, or annoying someone else, or angering someone else. To make that process easier, I need to care less. I’m not saying we should all start parking illegally in bus zones or acting like jerks in order to get our needs met, but maybe those of us who care a lot need to care less. And vice versa.
I dream of a world where we each find the sweet spot between caring too much and caring too little. A world where we’re considerate of each other, but not overly so. A world where we take care of ourselves to the best of our capacity while also taking care of those around us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Sometimes I’m scared to tell people things because I think they’ll judge me. I’m afraid they’ll think I’m weird or crazy or whatever. I know I’ve written about judgment before, but usually it’s been about preconceived notions. This week I’ve been dealing with the fallout of feeling judged, sitting with the discomfort of having someone else judge me and what I’m doing. I’m not going to lie, it was uncomfortable. I wanted to denigrate myself and somehow get on their side, show them I knew how silly I was being. I didn’t want to squirm in the spotlight and was looking to get out from under the microscope as soon as possible.
When I talked to a friend of mine about it he said, “Whenever somebody judges you it’s about them. It’s their issue.” I realized he’s right. If somebody is bothered by me or judging me it’s really their own insecurity coming up. Or perhaps I’m highlighting a way of being they would also enjoy. Or perhaps they’re judging me because they’re scared. Whatever it is doesn’t matter because the point is it belongs to them. I am just a vessel. I cannot be anyone other than me, even when it’s uncomfortable.
What this also brings up within me is people pleasing. I want people to like me, so sometimes I start to ingratiate myself to them. Judgment is one of those times. When someone harbors ill will toward me is another. I want to turn myself inside out so they’ll like me again. What I’m learning is that’s not my responsibility. Other people are allowed to judge me. Other people are allowed to dislike me. Other people are allowed to feel whatever they’re feeling toward me, even if it’s an emotion I’d rather they not felt. The very bottom line is I cannot control other people. I want to, a part of me wants to manipulate and say the right things to get someone to like me again, but that is a road I’m choosing not to walk down.
I guess ultimately what this post is about is being authentic no matter the consequences. It’s about being me even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s about allowing myself to be judged and not bending my will to someone else’s. It’s about not feeling afraid someone won’t like me or will think I’m kooky or will never forgive me because of something I said or did. Because that’s their issue. My issue is wanting to change who I am to appease someone else. It’s uncomfortable but I can take it. And I pray other people know they can take it too.
I dream of a world where we live with the uncomfortable feelings without trying to push them away. A world where we let other people judge us because we know it has nothing to do with us. A world where stop trying to please those around us to make ourselves feel better. A world where we let ourselves be who we are and we let others be who they are in the most loving way possible.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.