A while back, I had a brief encounter with a woman named Claire while waiting for the restroom at a café. I complimented her shoes, and our conversation quickly shifted to my own footwear, as is my habit. Claire responded warmly, displaying friendliness and engagement. We might have exchanged names, but I can’t be sure. I thought perhaps a friendship was blossoming.
As time passed, I spotted her occasionally. Sometimes she greeted me, and other times, it felt like she didn’t acknowledge my presence at all. So, I mirrored her behavior—sometimes saying hello, but often pretending to be captivated by the ceiling, waiting for her to make the first move. Slowly, doubts crept in: Was she truly the same person I had spoken to? Given that there are only about 200 people in our town, it seemed unlikely, but I convinced myself I had never met her at all. Eventually, I decided Claire wasn’t friendly and concluded she just didn’t like me.
Isn’t it fascinating how we construct these narratives? We often assume that our perceived slights are the fault of others. This phenomenon isn’t limited to casual acquaintances; even longtime friends can fall into this trap. I’ve played mediator between friends, each feeling wronged by the other, insisting that the onus is on the other person to reach out first. It’s almost as if we’re playing a game of social chess.
Trying to convince someone trapped in this cycle that their assumptions are misguided is usually futile. The more you attempt to uplift them, the more it feels like you’re trying to wrest some cherished belief from their grasp.
Returning to my experience, I realized that even as I dismissed Claire’s potential for friendship, I was caught in a familiar pattern. I was undeniably drawn to this emotional rollercoaster. Would we invest so much time worrying about others’ opinions if it didn’t fulfill some part of us? Perhaps it’s a way to relive the innocence and helplessness of childhood, like making imaginary enemies on the playground. Or maybe we’re just too self-absorbed to put in the effort to connect, opting instead to believe that others are uninterested.
My behavior didn’t go unnoticed; Claire eventually reached out to me through a Facebook message. Given that I had published an article lamenting my lack of friends, I was torn between wanting sympathy and fearing judgment. Claire’s note, which said, “I would never have guessed you were someone who needed friends,” struck a chord. It was a bittersweet realization that I had excelled at masking my true self. Yet amidst the sadness, I felt a spark of joy—there’s something exhilarating about breaking down walls we’ve built around ourselves.
But as an adult, I know that people are often far too preoccupied with their own issues—money, relationships, health—to devote much thought to me. Realistically, there’s no reason not to assume that most people think positively of me.
Curious about how to navigate these feelings? Check out some insights in this other blog post. And for those considering at-home insemination options, Make a Mom provides excellent resources too. Additionally, for a comprehensive understanding of IUI success rates, WebMD offers valuable information.
In summary, our perceptions about others’ feelings towards us can often be distorted, leading to unnecessary emotional turmoil. It’s important to remember that we might be more liked than we realize.