This week, I had a long conversation with an old friend who's struggling and I was reminded how painful the need for the approval of others can be. I have spent far too much of my life worrying about whether people like me or approve of me.
I was a pretty much a model child. I did what I was told, my academic results were impressive, my friends were who society dictated they should be, and I was exceptionally polite. Stepping out of line just wasn’t part of what I understood to be correct behaviour for the “smart, firstborn and only daughter”. So I worried about saying something ‘stupid’, other kids laughing at me, my parents being disappointed in me, and whether or not I was popular.
It only got worse in high school. I was hugely preoccupied with what others thought of me. The few times I tried to articulate a maverick opinion, the teachers quickly put me in my place. My peers were in the same boat and became either contributors to the problem, or outcasts. As I heard others ridiculed for being weird and not cool, I was even less likely to express my own unique ideas or question the status quo. At least not out loud. But I was experiencing my own personal internal struggle and making my own decisions…quietly. And then – a surprise to everyone, including me – I entered a period in my teens where I rebelled whole-heartedly. I simply did whatever I wanted, followed every crazy whim and devoted myself to la vida loca. Spectacularly. So spectacularly in fact, that I lived to deeply regret a few choice decisions. And that quashed any more overt efforts to colour outside the lines for a while.
My university days were marked by a desire to question everything, and yet I was never quite comfortable with the concept of interjecting my thoughts and concerns. An introvert in the extreme, the dialogue went on inside my head, but I was far more comfortable keeping the debate there than opening myself up to unfriendly fire. As a result, only a very few people really got to know me at all. Oh, I had various little crises of personal identity as an adult that led to forays outside the accepted status quo, but for the most part, I towed the line. Lots of people thought that was good. But I was really disappointed in myself. I believe in being authentic, and for most of my life, I just wasn’t.
And then Michael was born. And he changed everything. Having a child at an older than average age (38), and consciously exploring how I wanted to raise him, brought my core values to the forefront of my consciousness. I already understood that all children naturally assimilate what is modeled for them. And I wanted what I modeled for Michael to be positive, encouraging and authentic…and for our relationship to be characterized by mutual respect, joy, love, clarity and appreciation. That meant examining things like core values, boundaries, priorities, parenting roles, life philosophies, expectations, and the long-term legacy I want to offer Michael. This self-excavation was a game-changer. Suddenly, standing for who I was, modeling authenticity, and being able to self-express in a positive way became deeply important to me. Damn the consequences.
It’s taken some time and some devastating life experiences – even recently - but for the most part, now I’m pretty comfortable with letting my unique inner self shine as I uncover ‘the real me’. These days, even in challenging circumstances, I’m willing to:
Swim Against the Stream. I no longer care what everyone thinks. I care about doing what I believe is right in my heart, whether everyone else agrees or not. I understand that I may not often be part of the majority, and that’s okay with me. Not everyone is going to like me, agree with me, or value the same things I do. Alright then.
Live With Being Misunderstood. If I’m authentically being me, I tend to give more of myself than most people consider wise. It's who I am. I empathize with people. And that’s caused some grief in my life. I’ve been misunderstood, taken advantage of, slandered and judged. But if others being able to understand me means compromising who I am in my heart, well then, it’s not worth it. Not everyone can accept my parameters and boundaries – I can, and that’s what counts. Those kindred spirits who love and accept me as I am are getting an amazing and caring person in their lives.
Embarrass Myself. Okay. So I’m embarrassed. So what? I’m going to live through it, and chances are that it’s a learning experience that will ultimately enhance my life exponentially. And seriously? It’s much preferable to feeling like I’m not expressing who I really am. By stepping forward, and putting myself out there, I’m modeling authenticity – a huge core value for me – and being someone I feel really good about.
Yes, all this makes me vulnerable. It opens me up to ridicule, gossip, ostracization, and a limited social life. But to be honest, I haven’t experienced very much of that. In fact, the few times I have, it's actually helped weed out the relationships that aren’t healthy for me anyway, and opened up my time for the ones that encourage me, breathe life into me, and support me. It also makes me strong, courageous and liberated - a great role model for a young man who’s growing up in a world where conformity is the norm. And it makes me real. Very, very real. The big reward for me is that when my decisions and behaviours reflect my core values, my life fills with synergy, harmony and contentment. The need to be liked becomes a non-issue.
So. Do you like me? Yes? No? Maybe? It’s all good. Because now, I like me. And I’m teaching my son through example how important it is to like, honour and respect your authentic self.
And, to me, that’s what matters.
