Nobody cares

I am, like many people, self-conscious. For many years, an embarrassingly large part of my self-worth was dependent on what other people were thinking about me. My hair, my clothes, my personality, everything had to reach this high standard I imagined people expected of me. When I messed up, I just knew my mistakes were cemented in my friends’ minds forever.

It was a wise friend who enlightened me. One day, she asked if I remembered how our classmate Samantha’s clothes looked that day. I had no idea. She asked if I could recall Bryce’s incorrect response to a professor’s question. Again, I had no clue.

Her point: if I spent so little time focused on other people’s appearance or mistakes, did I honestly think they were focusing more attention on me?

Stated another way, everyone is so worried about meeting an imaginary standard that they don’t have the time or energy to care if other people are measuring up.

That is probably the most valuable lesson I’ve learned in college. It lifted this great, nagging anxiety off of me and allowed me to relax. It’s easier to handle your mistakes when you no longer feel like there’s a spotlight on them.

Now, if I go to Wal-Mart one Saturday and I didn’t have time to fix my hair, it’s not the end of the world. My fellow shoppers are focused on their kids, their plans for the day or how their own hair looks. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about how I look, but I recognize that I’m just a fuzzy-haired blip on their radar.

My mess-ups no longer have a psychological hold on me because I know nobody else cares as much as I do. Nobody cares, and that’s incredibly freeing.

Sydney Cromwell is a staff writer at 280 Living and a senior journalism and mass communication student at Samford University. Contact her at sydney@thehomewoodstar.com.