I went for a swim last night. I wanted release. I wanted weightlessness. The constant, rhythmic exertion. The void of outside distraction. The forced internal focus. The freedom of knowing I have nowhere to hide. That it is just me and the water. And that time, though tracked by lengths and breaths, is suspended. I can slip between the minutes and vanish from the public eye.
I got in the pool and I did a few laps and I waited for the smooth motions to take over my body and for my mind to find it’s essential resting spot for the physical and mental journey of my swim. Upon pausing at the far edge of the pool to adjust my goggles, I glimpsed a woman I’ve know for a while but have not seen nor spoke with in two years or more. We used to work out in the same circles. Swimming, biking, spinning, running, training. In motion. In motivation. With one another.
And here I was, back in the pool after too long away and suddenly feeling self-conscious. My arms and legs just would not sync. My mind was blundering on about everything that was not right about me. I battled thoughts of incompetence and self-defeat, body-image and stamina for the remainder of my swim. And all of this was brought on by the fact that I imagined this old friend watching me swim and making judgments on my stroke or my weight or the fact that I wasn’t using flip turns. Needless to say, I found no freedom, enjoyed no weightlessness, and suffered from only a negative focus. My aim was to feel refreshed upon exiting the pool and re-entering my life, and this was not the type of self-awareness I had in mind when I dipped a toe in the cool, clean waters.
In my heart of hearts I know it does not matter what others think about me. I am me. This is who I am. I am Sarah. My past is passed. My resolve is strong. My voice is loud. My honesty abundant. I am who and what I need to be right now. But judgment happens. I find myself in these situations where I wonder who is looking and how much it matters. Where I get all self-conscious and my good time is ruined. Where I catch someone judging me or I realize I’m judging myself.
Based on what, exactly? Gah!
I mean really, why on Earth should a glimpse of a woman I knew two years ago interrupt my brain as much as it did? We didn’t even say “Hello.” I don’t know if she even saw me, or recognized me–though I’ve cursed my always recognizable armband tattoo on more than one occasion.
But what is the deal?
Do we care what people think of us? Should we? And, if so, when should we? Always? Sometimes? In certain situations?
Well, what ARE those situations, then? And which people? Just the ones who are close to us? What about casual acquaintances or the other soccer moms on the sidelines?
I struggle with this as I’m sure many, many people do. I am defined by my surroundings. I am tied to the life I lead–my financial situation, my familial bonds, my town, my friends, my home. And everywhere, in every moment, someone is watching. The way I drive or eat or toss a boy into the grass. The shoes I wear, the style of my hair, the rip in my jeans.
I admire those people who appear exempt from the tedium of worrying about other eyes on them. But then I think, “Well, Sarah, you appear that way to many people, too.” It’s true, more often than not I don’t spend much time thinking about how others are judging me. Well, I don’t spend much time getting upset about it. I have learned to laugh about it more than not because really, it’s just kind of funny the looks I get from other people when I’ve said something risque or I’m yelling at the kids in the bread aisle with a package of ice pops in my hand. Walk a mile in my shoes, good buddy, then come to play at the judgment game.
But I do it too. As much as I hate it, I can admit it. I think I’m pretty decent about it, but still I battle against the assumptions my wandering eye tends to make about that lady over there, that dude in the shallow end, that gal in the fancy car. We all are judging each other and wishing not to be judged.
Even in the freedom of the blogging world there is this fear and hope about what others think of us. What posts will get the most comments. How many votes we should solicit to get on a list like this, or how we can influence an influential blogger to give us a nod, too. Do you judge me on the first post you glimpse when you happen to stop by? Do you look around a bit before you leave? Do you care to look at my photo or read my “About” page and feel enough of a connection to come back? Or do you know it’s not for you like you know you don’t like lima beans?
We worry what people think of us. Our mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters, daughters, spouses and sons? It’s probably acceptable to consider their opinion of us most important because family is most important. Our friends, colleagues, nannies, and PTA members? Yeah, I suppose we need to feel concern over their judgments as well. I guess we add anyone with whom we have an actual relationship, then? The list would get too long, and my patience would run quite short. Where does it end? And is this post really just an effort to remind myself to turn inward. Find the essence of me and unleash it, knowing that these thoughts about others’ thoughts will fade to black when my heart is wrapped in gold and hugging itself tight. A little self-love and a lot of self-worth and I don’t even need to bother with what the old friend might think of my too-pudgy thighs and my faded blue suit.
I am enough for me. It is a strong and powerful statement. It will lift me even when I am down. I will remind myself to use it. I am enough for me. But man oh man I hope she didn’t notice that I’m a little out of shape and a lot out of breath.
Read More in body image, exercise, health, mind/body, Sarah Writes, three kids
Add a Comment
Well. The thing about you is that when you say it, you tend to say it all.
Sooo…how about a photo of that tat? :)
I relate. And how. I wish I could just get over myself. It’s a process. I’m working on it, but that little girl Ann is still trying to prove she is good enough and better.
I heard somewhere that what others think of me is none of my business. Sounds great but I still haven’t quite figured out what that means. I think that it relates to the amount of mental energy I, too, spend sending my brain into the mind of every person I see trying to imagine what they see when they see me. Insane, and futile, and time consuming. I could go on.
And with writing, how it drove me nuts at first because my words are out there and I have no idea who’s reading them and how can I temper my words to best fit in with everyone perfectly? Finally I realized I just can’t. I have to press “publish” and send my those words into the world all alone.
Thanks, Sarah.
I really like this. It’s empowering for us all to be less judgmental if we can, and to admit how hard that can be, especially toward ourselves. I’m also thinking a lot lately about how our identities may shift from the individual to the relationships that exist between us all. Parenting is particularly profound because it is all about relationship… and maybe this can free us from too much self-consciousness to be good with who we are individually, but also to be curious about who we really are as a community. I’ve noticed that we can’t control what others think of us, but we can decide to appreciate others either way.
Namaste
I tend to think less of what the casual acquaintance thinks of me than what those I truly care about think of me. I try not to worry about the neighbors or “keeping up with the Joneses.” Many think I am crazy. I am sure I am a little. I am me and if people do not like what “me” is, they can go elsewhere.
This is why I hardly ever leave my house. I hate attending social functions because a large half of my brain is caught up in the worrying, wondering, second-guessing. I hate that about myself.
Even more pathetic is that it’s a lot better than it used to be. I’ve really had to work at being paranoid only half the time.
And oh, the lists. Those hideous blogger lists. I cannot look at them because then I feel like an inadequate speck of dust. I have to avoid them or else I can’t appreciate my blog for what it is. My little corner where I am free to be who I am and say what I want to say. I need that to be enough.
The flip side of caring what people think.
I recently, due to some circumstances with a friend, came to realize that my lack of concern over what other people thought of me, resulted in some fairly poor opinions of me. I’ve never given much of a second thought about what other people think – they dont lay down with me at night, I do. It can be difficult to find a good balance. I’m a judger too. But once I look away, within a minute, I’m thinking about something else. That’s why I never cared what other people thought. What those people who judge you think about once their eyes have moved on to the next thing they see, is that next thing. Not you.
For me personally, I need to learn to care a little bit more because the judgers who thought poorly of me are people I really care a lot about. I found that as much as I cared for them, the feeling was not mutual. They lacked respect for me. Now I have to deal with that.
This one hit a nerve. It’s right up there on my list of “Stuff I Am Working On.” I pride myself on being pretty in-your-face. I like to stand out, be different, be loud…literally and figuratively. I enjoy getting a rise out of people in simple ways (streaking my hair pink was a great example). You know from following me that I am really working on living free, bold, brave…no excuses for my behavior, beliefs, appearance, abilities, opinions. Blogging has actually helped tremendously with this: I have met so many women “like me” and others totally not who still get it, or at least listen without judgment. I have met people who are not afraid to put their thoughts out there. I am inspired by that honesty (yours, in particular). I walk around saying and thinking: “I don’t care what other people think.” But I do. Especially in the areas I’m not super confident…. What if I’m last in the race? What if I’m not thin enough to wear that outfit? What if I am doing this weight lifting move wrong? What if my friend thinks I’m an idiot for saying that? What if? What if? What if? It kills me to see that Ben takes after me on this one: “But Mama, what if they laugh at me?” All of this combined makes me want to force myself to be more in-your-face, more unapologetic, more who I am. To thine own self be true.
I spend way too much time worrying what others think. In some ways, I think it is one of my defining characteristics. Earlier this week, I posted a quote from Curtis Sittenfeld’s American Wife about a woman who bends and shapes herself to fit every situation, social, romantic, and otherwise. I think caring about what others think and being socially flexible are two halves of the same whole. I am really pretty good at being the person other people want to see – and that probably comes from spending so much time thinking about what others think.
“I am enough for me” – I wish. Oh, how I wish I felt that.
Great post, wonderful insight, as always!
I definitely subscribe to “it’s not my business what other people think of me” — but it came after 30 years of being so controlled by other people’s judgments and opinions that I didn’t like myself. I didn’t work out bc I didn’t want people to point and watch, I didn’t take risks because I didn’t want people to see me fail, I didn’t stand up for myself because I didn’t want people to think I was naive or stupid. And I lost myself.
I do care what people think, but I decided that I can determine what/how people think through my actions. If I want to be a loving, giving person, then I must act generously and with the best intentions. If I want them to know I’m smart, then I must make tough decisions even when they rock the boat, etc. At the end of the day, if I’m being authentic to myself and generous with the world, then the rest doesn’t matter.
Doesn’t mean I don’t clam up at social functions or stutter through phone conversations with new friends, but it does mean I am who I am — and that’s enough.
Some people push our buttons more than others, whether they know it or not. They address some vulnerable piece of self from an earlier time, and zap – we’re right back there, feeling 14 or 17 and fumbling around for words or shuffling our feet uncertain how to stand and look comfortable, when we’re anything but.
Some of us live in our heads more than others. Time caring for family tends to keep us (over)busy, but also churning in the eternal-voice-task-list brain. And we’re usually highly critical. And the ‘we’ is more frequently women. Not exclusively, but I believe, more frequently.
Everyone may judge, but we are (still, dammit) raised to “please” – and thus we care what too many people think, for too much of our lives.
Fortunately, some of that falls away as major life events hit us, and judging ourselves (on minutiae) lessens. And as we get a little bit older, those whose opinions we care about become a smaller and smaller group. And the self becomes the one whose “judgment” matters more often than not.
All the more reason to be kinder to your “self.”
I think it’s human nature to care what others think of us. I also think that those of us who care more about what others think of us, tend to be the ones that care more about others. Although I’m sensitive about what people think of me, I’m also very empathetic towards other people’s feelings. I try to make people feel comfortable when they otherwise may not. I think sensitive and empathetic go hand in hand.
I like to think of myself as “Securely Insecure”. I know my strengths and my weaknesses. I’m totally secure in the fact that I know CRAP about politics and although I’m embarrassed about it, I’ll be the first to make fun of myself at a dinner where everyone is jabbering on the topic.
I’ve posted before about people judging me and my judging others. I tend to believe though, that most of us overthink what others are thinking of us. They’re too busy worrying about what YOU’RE thinking of them!
Becca – this reminds me of one of the codependency books I tend to read over and over again. The author writes that if we (codependents) knew how LITTLE other people think about us, we’d carry a lot less burden and anxiety. I try to remind myself of that; it’s a bit self-centered to think everyone in the room is thinking about ME, right?
when i was in my early teens, i was chunky and had terrible skin. i remember being at a bus stop eating a kit kat bar and an older girl, who was definitely a bully, said to her group of friends, “look at her. you’d think that with all those zits on her face she wouldn’t eat chocolate bars.” they all laughed. i remember feeling so ashamed. i carried that moment with me for years; for probably ten years i would not eat junk food unless i was at home. the sad truth is that people *do* judge, and sometimes they don’t have enough manners to do it in their heads. (since i am so obviously awesome now, i am forced to group that older girl and her friends under “Mean, Insecure People Of The World.”) fortunately, my mother raised me not to give a damn. until Other People are walking my path, they can save their judgments or blow a goat. i will enjoy giving anyone who judges me those same two options.
like Deena said above, not caring about what people think of you can have a negative effect. i did not realize that many of the wives/girlfriends of my husband’s co-workers thought i was a cold, unfriendly bitch until my husband told me. frankly, it didn’t really bother me. they made a snap judgment about me because i did not want to be a part of the fake backstabby games they played. so i guess that’s not really a negative, is it?
what matters to me is this: do my friends think i am a good friend? do my children know i love them and (when they are grown up and have their own kids because they don’t get to make any judgments until they themselves are parents) think i am a good mom? (oh hell.. let’s go with Best Mom Ever.) does my husband feel loved by me? do *I* think i’m a decent human being? after that, everything else just seems a whole lot less important.
that doesn’t mean i leave the house looking like a dirty hobo, though, and i would be mightily embarrassed to find out my skirt was caught in my pantyhose and my arse was hanging out.
not that that’s ever happened or anything.
*cough*
LOL I loved this comment. I do want to add, that even though I wasn’t the type of brat to make comments about a chubby girl eating a kit kat, I can assure you that those bratty girls found some other nice person to judge and comment and likely within a matter of minutes had no thought about you eating that kit kat. It really quite speaks to how careless and thoughtless some people are (the bratty girls with lousy manners). I opine to myself if I see somethink I think isn’t okay. Its never worth mentioning because it’s not my business to share and doesn’t change a thing for me in my life. To each his own and to thine own self be true. That’s all any of us can hope for.
I never, ever would have thought that my own friends were judging me in the way they were. Not in a physical sense about looks or weight or anything but regarding something completely different. I just assumed that with friends it wasn’t going to be that way. I lost / never had any of the “friend respect” and non-judgement I thought I did. I should have paid more attention. I guess even they are also human and as such fall short of perfection. I am seriously appauled at what I now realize their true opinion of me is. One of them was, I thought, my best friend. People surprise me sometimes.
you should have made that list. i read it just since i am looking for some good blogs to read such as yours and none of them hold a candle to this one. i liked some of the “authors” previous books alright but the blogs were pretty awful.
Im sure it was more about promoting the authors and advertising….who knows what went into actually selecting those.
anyhow, perfect example is this…..i dont comment on your stuff because i dont feel like i have anything insightful or thoughful enough to say, though i can totally relate to and appreciate very one of your posts. so yes i know what its like to care what people think. <3
Stick with Sarah and Jen — they never disappoint and the community/commenters are amazing, too. :)
Christina,
Even an utterance of “Yes” or “I get it” in the comments section is insightful if you’ve read a post. Don’t be shy. We are all in this together. Most days I don’t even have time to get a blog post written, let alone make insightful comments on my favorite blogs. So sometimes I’ll just say “I’m with you” or “I hear you” just so I know I’m still along for the ride.
On the other hand, there are blogs I read just to read and don’t feel the pressure of commenting, which is a lovely feelings. So I don’t want you to feel any pressure in posting to the conversation, but I do want you to know there is no pressure in WHAT you write if you do so CHOOSE to write.
Sheesh! I hope this makes sense. I think I’m confusing myself. And I have barely finished half a cup of coffee, to boot, at 7:13 am…so I’m still a little foggy.
In short (too late), I’m glad you’re out there. Reading. Listening. Nodding, as Becca would say. There are so many voices online, and I’m just glad to have found a place in the mix.
I just wanted to give credit where it’s due. This post made me think a lot and inspired my most recent one. I posted a link in my post back to this one on yours. :-)
http://deenakwennig.wordpress.com/2010/01/17/reflections/
Thank you for a thought provoking post. :-)
I’m a recovering people pleaser. I still fall into it too much, I think. I want so badly to be validated that I over-think what others may be thinking (or not thinking). I’m learning to let it go, but it’s hard…I really do think none of us can say it’s not hard. I may have months and even years of a shrug my shoulders and say who cares kind of confidence, but there’s always that little girl in there somewhere, trying to measure up.