Hey, friends. Thanks for reading. I wanted to impart a few nuggets of knowledge for your life today. These are some of the lessons that took me way too long to learn. Learn them now and profit from my experiences.
It sucks, I know. We're raised to believe that people out in the world care about us and will look out for us when we need them most. Get this into your head as soon as possible, and make sure it lodges in deep:
That. Is. Not. True. At. All.
Most people around you are concerned with one thing, and one thing only: themselves. Almost everyone is the star of their own universe, and their immediate family and friends form the closest celestial bodies that surround them. The rest of us are just chunks of space dust destined to burn up in their radiance. If your chunk of dust can aggregate enough mass (that is, value), you may well become the next body of interest in their microcosm.[1]
It's important to understand, however, that this does not mean that they actively hate you. Rather, they just don't care about you one way or another. Most people are concerned with putting bread on the table, seeking out happiness, and the means and methods to obtain comfort and security. They literally do not think much of you unless you somehow help or hinder them in their pursuit of these basic requirements (more on this later). Life is short, and they just don't have time to. Some people will actively hate you, but for the average Joe/Jane, those people thankfully few and far between. Keep your head up and your nose clean and you'll (probably) be fine.
One of the most liberating aspects of growing up is realizing that most people don't really care about you. It's also one of the most alienating and scary. How many times did you worry if your hair or clothes looked perfect in high school? Those kids were laughing at fart jokes ten minutes after you left class. Do you have a mole in an awkward place, at least in your own mind? Nobody cares; they're thinking about the weird birth mark they don't want their date to see yet. And for that, you are, in a way, free. Perhaps even radically free.[2] Sure, people may laugh or point for the moment, but those people have forgotten you in five minutes.
For that reason, it's important not to let the hurt people temporarily inflict take up permanent real estate in your psyche. If you need therapy to get past that, there's absolutely no shame in it. When you're 80 years old, nobody's going to care about the trauma you never got over--especially not the people responsible for it (if they can even remember you at that point). Do whatever it takes to be the healthiest, most proficient version of you possible.
If you have two people you're not blood related to that really, truly, genuinely care about you--you've done a 10/10 job so far. It's rare to find people that are truly loving and empathic enough to care about you and want to see you succeed, and actually put their money where their mouth is. Value those people. Hang close to those people. But don't draw too much from their kindness, or you may find it dry up when you need it most.
Remember that one of the biggest mistakes you can make is to not respect your friends' or family members' time and own goals in life. They have their own priorities and interests (which once again intersect with point 1), and you can't always expect them to drop their priorities to help meet yours. I'm someone who has struggled in life for years, and I'm more than willing to admit that without the people that truly cared about me, I would have been homeless or dead a long time ago. But eventually people get tired of crisis being introduced into their lives, even if it comes from the people they truly love or care about. Always try to grow less perpetually reliant on your friends, so you're more of a net benefit to their lives and less of a bringer of bad omens. Eventually, all you'll be associated with is bad times...and the people you know will quickly make themselves scarce. In that way you can become unintentionally toxic to other people.
Whenever you need help from people, remember this simple point: people will help you when it's convenient and not a burden for them to do so. When you start becoming burdensome, a seed is planted in their head--one of momentary discomfort, even a tiny twinge of annoyance. This seed will grow the more you water it with sudden requests and problems. Even when your needs are legitimate, it's important to understand that they are your needs first and foremost. When someone has to handle their needs as well as yours time and again, and feel that parity in the relationship has suffered, that seed will put down thick roots and grow like a Tree of Might (I loved DBZ as a kid) that drains the life out of your relationship. You'll soon find the relationship grows strained, withers, and maybe even outright dies entirely.
Sometimes they'll talk to you about it, but the relationship might never be the same. Others will jettison you entirely because the nature of your relationship has fundamentally changed in their mind for good. Off like a light switch, and there's nothing you can do about it--because you're at best an external part of that thought process. Either way you'll find out how lonely life is when you overdraw (not even abuse, necesarily) from the limited bank of your friends' kindness. If you have one friend like those in books and legends, you are, in your own little way, a legend in your own right.
It's hard to find a true, steadfast, there-for-whatever friend, and even if you do, that might not last forever. Value it for as long as it does last, and don't obsess over prolonging moribund relationships. Things end, and that's okay. You'll be okay.
Takeaway: You're alone out there, and it's not exactly okay, but it's how it is. Embrace the good, work around the bad and find your own path to self-sufficiency. For the vast majority of us, it's not an optional path.
I am someone guilty of the act of chronic apology. It has hurt me immensely. We are (if we're lucky) taught to be humble, self-effacing, and willing to admit guilt and wrongdoing. For every one person like that, however, there's another who was taught that apology is a sign of retreat, and to retreat is to admit defeat. To some, budging even an inch is losing the fight before you've even put up your fists. Those people are ridiculous, but they exist.
We live in a world of subtle power plays and psychological trickery; most of this game is played subconsciously. Too much apology equates to being unsure of what you say, and ultimately being unwilling or unable to stand by your actions where it matters most. Mind you, this isn't some anemic pseudo-truism like "nice guys finish last." Rather, it's an appeal to our nature as social animals. Although I would not say humans necessarily crave hierarchy, a la Peterson, they do tend to establish a mental pecking order. Those who exhibit confidence and a surefire nature get ahead, while those constantly apologizing for slights both perceived and real are eventually picked over and not taken seriously. Do not marginalize yourself; you're already predestining yourself to marginalization by others.
Part of this sorting of the wheat from the (strangely apologetic) chaff is from the rationale explained above. Another serious part of it is just that being around constant apologizers is exhausting. A lack of confidence is infectious; similiar to group paranoia, someone who constantly apologizes spreads self-doubt, both between individuals and within groups. It's mentally taxing to have to figure out conundrums like:
"Should I mollify this person?"
"Do they want me to make them feel better?"
"WHY IS EVERYTHING SUCH A BIG DEAL TO THEM?"
And of course, some people follow a simpler philosophy: "I don't care about you or what you're talking about." Eventually people will tune you out because it's simply easier psychologically to not spend time figuring out what your case is.Apology is best exercised tactically; it should be an earnest response to true, genuine wrongdoing. It should come after reflection on the situation, whether the situation is a response to actions you have undertaken that did not have the desired effect, hurting someone's feelings, or promising more than you delivered. An admission that you messed up is literally spreading your arms wide in preparation for a potentially deadly blow. If done right, the impact on your audience can be empathy-inspiring, endearing--even uplifting.
The art of tactical apology shows a confidence in oneself great enough to say "I don't have to apologize for being me, but I do have to apologize for what I've done to you and/or the world." Someone who commits acts with confidence and only apologizes when they know their actions have had an unnecessarily detrimental effect is someone who shows both integrity and humility in equal measure. People like that. I think.
Takeaway: If you apologize all the time, you're doing it too much. Apologize meaningfully, not constantly.
You've reached the end of the first installment of my Lessons to Learn, and Learn Early. I've decided to break this up into two sections for easier reading. Find Part 2 here
[1] (This isn't always true, though. As many can attest, even close family can sometimes deem you disposable if you stand between them and their own self-interest, short-sighted or not.)
[2] The philosopher Jean Paul Sartre's notion of Radical Freedom is perhaps one of the most elegant, if not exactly straightforward, expressions of this strange and scary place to be in the universe. The fact that nobody really cares opens you up to a path that is (mostly) defined by what you choose to make it. Existence precedes essence and all that. Of course, this isn't 100 percent true...some people make it their business to very definitively crush that freedom if it doesn't align with their own personal values. Oh well, nobody said philosophers/philosophies were perfect (as Sartre himself often made clear).
