Let’s Not and Say We Did: Living Up to Nobody’s Expectations But Your Own
“I suppose what I’m getting at is that, one
way or the other, I never entirely fitted in. I was immature in some ways and
overly mature in others. Adults assumed I was capable because, by now, I was
tall and good at exams and well behaved in class, but really I was just trying
to work things out and I still barely knew myself. I always felt something of
an outsider.”
This personal essay is brought to you in part by this iconic and timeless quote from Kat Stratford in the iconic and timeless film 10 Things I Hate About You.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve often found myself feeling stifled by expectations: the expectations of others and the expectations of the world, combined with my own expectations for myself. And I’ve learned that much of the reason behind why I’ve felt stifled by expectation is because I didn’t realize how much of a people-pleaser I had become.
In her book How to Fail, Elizabeth Day explains that becoming a people-pleaser is often a consequence of not fitting in. We don’t fit in with other children, so we strive to find a place where we do fit in—and since adults almost always control our world as children, we tend to gravitate towards appeasing authority figures. And it gets even worse when you start craving the approval of not only authority figures but adults in general—just as I had. But the lines start to get blurred when you wake up one morning and realize that you, too, are now an adult and going around being perfect and craving approval doesn’t really work anymore. Nobody cares how perfect you are anymore. You aren’t special—and probably never were.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been called an old soul, because I am. I grew up watching The Brady Bunch and Happy Days on DVD instead of Spongebob. I grew up listening to Madonna and my mom’s disco CDs instead of whatever was on the radio. When everyone else was raving over The Hunger Games, I was watching old Judy Garland musicals from the library. It’s just who I am. But I never realized the consequences of the label “old soul” that was put on me as a child by other adults. Teachers assumed I was more mature and sure of myself because I sat quietly before class and read a book I brought from home, or because I had no patience or tolerance for most teenage nonsense that goes on in high school. And to a certain degree, they were right.
I’ve always been told I was mature for my age, especially given that girls supposedly mature faster than boys. But I realize now that I was more mature than my peers in the ways that adults could see. In the ways they couldn’t see, I was in fact probably more immature for my age. Whereas most teenagers are going out partying and breaking curfew on weekends, nothing gave me more pleasure on weekends in high school than ignoring civilization and watching Dateline Saturday Night Mystery and Saturday Night Live with a bowl of popcorn, by myself. And while that may register to adults as being more mature and sure of myself because I appeared to never rely on the company of others, I was in fact more immature and unsure of myself than most people my age—just beneath the surface with the constant sensitivity and vulnerability to prove it. It would be a few more years before I could peel back that layer and deal with the hidden anxieties that had been within me since childhood. I’m still dealing with that. Let’s rename this blog Adulthood Confessions from a Recovering “Old Soul.”
It’s difficult to figure out what exactly it is you want from life when, up until this point, you have gone around satisfying everyone else’s expectations and definitions of who you are—because that’s what has felt safe and comforting and the generally “right decision.” But I’ve learned that things that often feel safe or comforting end up being bad for you in the long run—especially conforming to other people’s expectations. It just doesn’t leave much room for any personal definition of yourself, which I think is essential for every human being at one point or another. It’s also difficult when there is very often a generational gap when it comes to expectations. Different generations were raised with different mindsets, and that can often lead to conflict when it comes to personal decision-making. And that’s fine, because at the end of the day, you have to have some room to define yourself outside of any and all other definitions. You need to know who you are for nobody else other than yourself. Once you have a sense of what that is, it’s easier to live outside of someone else’s expectations. But then you are still left with the question, who am I and what do I want from this life?
And here is the one big thing to remember about that (and I’ve mentioned this before): you don’t owe anybody anything. Of course, you owe your family and friends a decent amount of respect and courtesy, and you owe your employer two weeks notice if you intend to quit. But other than that? You don’t owe anybody anything. Say it with me now! You don’t owe it to your parents or grandparents or whoever to follow the path they laid out for you. You owe it to yourself to follow the path you feel is best for you. You don’t owe it to your friend to finish the book they recommended or lent you. You owe it to yourself to spend your reading time wisely. I don’t owe it to anyone else to fulfill the gender roles laid out for men. I owe it to myself to live my life how I see fit. At the end of the day, we are in charge of ourselves and only ourselves. Yes, that sounds selfish, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You are allowed to be selfish and selfless at the same time, as long as they don’t counteract each other. You can’t give unhealthy parts of yourself to your job in hopes that your boss or whoever will notice how perfect you are, just like your teachers used to do. Adulthood doesn’t work like that. You can’t sacrifice all of your free time to helping others and then complain about having no time for yourself. Life doesn’t work like that. There has to be a balance.
The next time you find yourself feeling indebted to something that otherwise shouldn’t concern you, remember that you don’t owe anybody anything. It’s nice when people go the extra mile, as I have tended to do my entire life, but it’s not on them if they don’t take notice. Nobody asked you to go that extra mile—you did that out of your own free will. So you really must ask yourself what is worth it and what is not. You must ask yourself, am I doing this to impress somebody else, or am I doing this for myself? How else are you ever going to know yourself if you can’t make that distinction? People who live by their own definition—therefore, purposely and often loudly disobeying the expectations and rules laid out by others—often get told they need to tone it down and be more respectful (and depending on the circumstances, that might be true). But more times than not, respecting someone else’s values often means disrespecting your own, which means invalidating who you are and what you believe. So, in order to figure that out for yourself, you have to lead by example and stay in your lane—even if that lane doesn’t exist. Create a new lane. Be messy. Make mistakes. Figure it out and grow as you go. Those are more realistic expectations than any laid out by others.
“The more I like me, the less I want to pretend to be other people.” —Jamie Lee Curtis
This personal essay is brought to you in part by this iconic and timeless quote from Kat Stratford in the iconic and timeless film 10 Things I Hate About You.
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve often found myself feeling stifled by expectations: the expectations of others and the expectations of the world, combined with my own expectations for myself. And I’ve learned that much of the reason behind why I’ve felt stifled by expectation is because I didn’t realize how much of a people-pleaser I had become.
In her book How to Fail, Elizabeth Day explains that becoming a people-pleaser is often a consequence of not fitting in. We don’t fit in with other children, so we strive to find a place where we do fit in—and since adults almost always control our world as children, we tend to gravitate towards appeasing authority figures. And it gets even worse when you start craving the approval of not only authority figures but adults in general—just as I had. But the lines start to get blurred when you wake up one morning and realize that you, too, are now an adult and going around being perfect and craving approval doesn’t really work anymore. Nobody cares how perfect you are anymore. You aren’t special—and probably never were.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been called an old soul, because I am. I grew up watching The Brady Bunch and Happy Days on DVD instead of Spongebob. I grew up listening to Madonna and my mom’s disco CDs instead of whatever was on the radio. When everyone else was raving over The Hunger Games, I was watching old Judy Garland musicals from the library. It’s just who I am. But I never realized the consequences of the label “old soul” that was put on me as a child by other adults. Teachers assumed I was more mature and sure of myself because I sat quietly before class and read a book I brought from home, or because I had no patience or tolerance for most teenage nonsense that goes on in high school. And to a certain degree, they were right.
I’ve always been told I was mature for my age, especially given that girls supposedly mature faster than boys. But I realize now that I was more mature than my peers in the ways that adults could see. In the ways they couldn’t see, I was in fact probably more immature for my age. Whereas most teenagers are going out partying and breaking curfew on weekends, nothing gave me more pleasure on weekends in high school than ignoring civilization and watching Dateline Saturday Night Mystery and Saturday Night Live with a bowl of popcorn, by myself. And while that may register to adults as being more mature and sure of myself because I appeared to never rely on the company of others, I was in fact more immature and unsure of myself than most people my age—just beneath the surface with the constant sensitivity and vulnerability to prove it. It would be a few more years before I could peel back that layer and deal with the hidden anxieties that had been within me since childhood. I’m still dealing with that. Let’s rename this blog Adulthood Confessions from a Recovering “Old Soul.”
It’s difficult to figure out what exactly it is you want from life when, up until this point, you have gone around satisfying everyone else’s expectations and definitions of who you are—because that’s what has felt safe and comforting and the generally “right decision.” But I’ve learned that things that often feel safe or comforting end up being bad for you in the long run—especially conforming to other people’s expectations. It just doesn’t leave much room for any personal definition of yourself, which I think is essential for every human being at one point or another. It’s also difficult when there is very often a generational gap when it comes to expectations. Different generations were raised with different mindsets, and that can often lead to conflict when it comes to personal decision-making. And that’s fine, because at the end of the day, you have to have some room to define yourself outside of any and all other definitions. You need to know who you are for nobody else other than yourself. Once you have a sense of what that is, it’s easier to live outside of someone else’s expectations. But then you are still left with the question, who am I and what do I want from this life?
And here is the one big thing to remember about that (and I’ve mentioned this before): you don’t owe anybody anything. Of course, you owe your family and friends a decent amount of respect and courtesy, and you owe your employer two weeks notice if you intend to quit. But other than that? You don’t owe anybody anything. Say it with me now! You don’t owe it to your parents or grandparents or whoever to follow the path they laid out for you. You owe it to yourself to follow the path you feel is best for you. You don’t owe it to your friend to finish the book they recommended or lent you. You owe it to yourself to spend your reading time wisely. I don’t owe it to anyone else to fulfill the gender roles laid out for men. I owe it to myself to live my life how I see fit. At the end of the day, we are in charge of ourselves and only ourselves. Yes, that sounds selfish, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You are allowed to be selfish and selfless at the same time, as long as they don’t counteract each other. You can’t give unhealthy parts of yourself to your job in hopes that your boss or whoever will notice how perfect you are, just like your teachers used to do. Adulthood doesn’t work like that. You can’t sacrifice all of your free time to helping others and then complain about having no time for yourself. Life doesn’t work like that. There has to be a balance.
The next time you find yourself feeling indebted to something that otherwise shouldn’t concern you, remember that you don’t owe anybody anything. It’s nice when people go the extra mile, as I have tended to do my entire life, but it’s not on them if they don’t take notice. Nobody asked you to go that extra mile—you did that out of your own free will. So you really must ask yourself what is worth it and what is not. You must ask yourself, am I doing this to impress somebody else, or am I doing this for myself? How else are you ever going to know yourself if you can’t make that distinction? People who live by their own definition—therefore, purposely and often loudly disobeying the expectations and rules laid out by others—often get told they need to tone it down and be more respectful (and depending on the circumstances, that might be true). But more times than not, respecting someone else’s values often means disrespecting your own, which means invalidating who you are and what you believe. So, in order to figure that out for yourself, you have to lead by example and stay in your lane—even if that lane doesn’t exist. Create a new lane. Be messy. Make mistakes. Figure it out and grow as you go. Those are more realistic expectations than any laid out by others.
“The more I like me, the less I want to pretend to be other people.” —Jamie Lee Curtis
“This collision between one’s image of oneself
and what one actually is is very painful and there are two things you can do
about it, you can meet the collision head-on and try and become what you really
are or you can retreat and try to remain what you thought you were, which is a
fantasy, in which you will certainly perish.” —James Baldwin
(Recommended listening for this essay: “The Way I Feel” by Keane, “Girl in the Mirror” by Bebe Rexha, “Who Says” by Selena Gomez & The Scene, “Weight of the World” by Chantal Kreviazuk, and “Drew Barrymore” by SZA)
Follow It's Not That Deep on Instagram — @areyouthereanxiety — and listen to my playlist of mental health songs on Spotify and Apple Music
(Recommended listening for this essay: “The Way I Feel” by Keane, “Girl in the Mirror” by Bebe Rexha, “Who Says” by Selena Gomez & The Scene, “Weight of the World” by Chantal Kreviazuk, and “Drew Barrymore” by SZA)
Follow It's Not That Deep on Instagram — @areyouthereanxiety — and listen to my playlist of mental health songs on Spotify and Apple Music
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