A few months back, I found myself chatting with a woman in line for the restroom at a local café. I complimented her adorable shoes, and, as is often my habit, I quickly turned the conversation back to my own footwear. She was warm and engaging, and we even exchanged names—though I can’t be entirely certain about that detail. I thought we might hit it off as friends.
As time went on, I would occasionally see her around town. Sometimes she greeted me, and other times she didn’t. This led me to question whether she was truly the same person I had met, despite the fact that our town has a limited population of about 200 people. Soon, I convinced myself that I had never actually met her at all. My greetings turned into silence, and eventually, I convinced myself that she simply wasn’t friendly and didn’t like me.
Why Do We Do This?
Isn’t it fascinating how easily we can rationalize our own emotional distance? We often tell ourselves that the other person has initiated the coldness. This behavior isn’t limited to casual acquaintances; even long-time friends can fall into similar patterns. I’ve often played the mediator role, hearing from both sides, “I’ve reached out countless times, and she never makes time for me, so it’s her turn to reach out first.”
It sounds a bit like a reality show, but it’s really just human nature. Trying to convince someone steeped in social self-doubt that their perceptions are skewed—perhaps because the other person is simply busy or preoccupied—usually doesn’t help. In fact, the more you attempt to reassure them, the more they seem to cling to their grievances.
Returning to my own narrative, I realized that even while I was convinced this woman disliked me, I was playing a familiar game. I was caught up in a cycle where the emotional turmoil was oddly comforting, even if it was also distressing. Would we obsess over what others think of us if it didn’t offer some hidden pay-off?
Perhaps this fixation allows us to relive feelings of vulnerability we experienced as children. Maybe we believe that feeling slighted will somehow keep us youthful. Or maybe it’s simply easier to assume others aren’t interested in us than to put in the effort to engage and connect. This mindset can become a self-fulfilling prophecy; if we think no one likes us, we may inadvertently push people away. But let’s be honest—many people will likely appreciate you regardless of your own doubts.
I couldn’t escape my own pattern, as this woman eventually reached out through a message on Facebook. I had written an article about feeling friendless, which I half-hoped would resonate with others. Her note read, “It never occurred to me that you were someone who needed friends.” This realization hit me hard; I’m skilled at masking my true feelings. Yet, paradoxically, I also felt a sense of joy—knowing that I can still connect with others despite my barriers.
As adults, we often become preoccupied with our own lives—finances, relationships, and health—leaving little room to contemplate how others perceive us. So, why not assume that everyone thinks we’re fantastic?
In the end, it’s crucial to remember that the connections we seek are often within reach, and sometimes all it takes is a little courage to bridge that gap.
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Summary
We often misinterpret others’ feelings towards us due to our insecurities and emotional patterns. This tendency can lead us to withdraw and create barriers, even with those we want to connect with. Understanding this behavior can help us navigate our relationships better and encourage us to reach out instead of retreating.