💬💬💬 This week’s Community Chat, apropos to our topic: “If approval didn’t count as a metric, how would you measure whether or not something “went well”?”CLICK BELOW TO JOIN! 💬💬💬
Now, on to the newsletter!
Hi everyone!
OG readers and listeners know I’ve always had strong opinions about the cultural mantra to “not care what people think.” In short, I think it’s well-meaning but misguided.
First, the well-meaning part: “don’t care what people think” has a healthy heart. It aims to free us from the fear of judgment. And that’s pretty great.
Next, the misguided part: “don’t care what people think” is still a mantra tied to the opinion of others. The imagined audience is still there, still judging. Our reaction is still rooted in their judgment, but instead of reacting with fear, we’re supposed to react with carelessness, or worse, hostility or devaluation: “Who cares what they think?” It’s not liberation; it’s armor.
So this week, let’s re-imagine. Rather than not caring, which still ties us to that imagined audience, let’s care about what we think. We’ll move from “What did they think?” or even “I refuse to care about what they think” to “What do I think?”
Rather than not caring, let’s care about what we think.
Here are a few different ways to phrase “What do I think?”
Instead of caring about other people’s approval, we care about alignment with our own values. Was I being the person I want to be? If this were practice, what was I practicing?
A recent example: Amal is settling into a new job at a small company, and she’s paired with the only other employee on her level—Jessie—for almost every project. Amal has to rely on Jessie for everything from document passwords to institutional memory, so she’s motivated to get along. When Jessie asked her about her dating life, Amal was happy to be open, telling stories about a guy she dubbed Pink Flag and another she called Avocado Toast. But it quickly became apparent that Jessie made it her business to know everyone else’s business. After Jessie spilled all the goss about the receptionist’s messy breakup and a VP’s secret Grindr profile, Amal realized what she told Jessie would be told to the whole org chart. She decided to stop sharing.
When Amal suddenly went from chatty to vague, she fretted about whether Jessie was offended or annoyed—in other words, she worried about what Jessie thought. But rather than denigrating her relationship with Jessie with “who cares what she thinks,” Amal instead tried to focus on her own value of privacy and professionalism, as well as the practice of setting and holding boundaries. She could keep her private life private without devaluing her new work friend.
Alternatively, instead of caring about approval, we can care about whether or not we tried in good faith and did the best we could.
Alice was dreading her weekly call with her best friend from college because she was embarrassed to tell her she was still dating someone she knew wasn’t a keeper. When they finally talked, Alice said to her friend, “Hey, I’m having a hard time breaking this off. I don’t need advice; I just need you to listen. Can you be patient while I think out loud for a moment?” But instead, her friend got mad at her. “Alice, what are you doing? Let this one go,” and then launched into all the reasons Alice should get out of the relationship.
After Alice hung up, she felt let down. She was tempted to shrug it off with “Who cares what she thinks?” but tried to focus on “Hey, I tried. I tried to ask for what I needed. I tried to be clear.” She was still disappointed, to be sure, but she didn’t have to resort to denigrating her friend to feel better.
Last up: instead of caring about approval, we care about growth and learning. Did I learn something useful? Did I tolerate discomfort in service of something interesting, meaningful, or fun?
In therapy, Martina was working her way through a good old fashioned social anxiety hierarchy, and her next goal was lofty: audition for a local community chorus. The idea of singing in front of others while being evaluated made her hair stand on end, but she was willing to experience the anxiety in order for a chance to join the group.
Spoiler: Martina sang her heart out, but didn’t make the cut. “They only needed one soprano,” she reported back. After the audition, Martina worried about what the panel thought of her—whether they were actually sorry they couldn’t take her, like they said, or whether they secretly thought she sang like a feral cat in heat. She was tempted to shrug it off with “who cares what they think,” but instead she focused on the fact she had shown up for a new, challenging social situation. She had been willing to be anxious in service of something meaningful to her, and added to the growing list of things she had been brave enough to try. And that was a win.
All in all, “don’t care what people think” keeps us tied to our imagined audience. Instead of turning outward and rejecting them, turn inward: Did I act with integrity? Did I try? Did I learn? With these questions, instead of armor, we find a compass (or three).
Be good to others and yourself!
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.