Not For Them
You don’t have to do anything for them. When you create, when you work, when you sing, when you love, when you do anything in your life, they don’t matter. Who is ‘they’, you ask? Everyone. Anyone. Those people that you convince yourself everyday are going to hate what you create, hate what you do, or judge you.
The fact of the matter is that you will be judged. Plain and simple, you will be judged. But here’s the deal, it’s okay. You’re not doing it for them. And if you are, then you’re creating for the wrong reasons anyway.
I’ll never forget the first day after my book was published and the dread that came with this. I don’t know if this is everybody, but hey, there has to be some people out there like me. I had waited my whole life to find a publisher and when it actually happened, I couldn’t enjoy a second of it. I was paralyzed with dread over people that I didn’t know, reading these words that I had labored over for years. And that’s just the people I didn’t know. The thought of people that I did know reading my book was almost worse—because I would have to look them in the face. You see, somewhere deep inside of me, I was convinced that there would be a mob out there ready to hate what I’ve created. It stole from an entire experience that I thought would be amazing. Instead of amazing, it derailed me in the most fight or flight way possible. Can I just stick my head in the sand and pretend that this didn’t happen?
This lasted for years. Not just days, weeks, or months. Then one day I woke up sick of how I was feeling—having hit rock bottom. The thing that I loved the most was making me miserable because somewhere, some attacker was waiting to tear me down. People were going to inevitably write bad reviews. And yet, the good reviews do nothing to help.
Until, a simple sentence changed it all.
“I’m not writing books for them.”
This wasn’t the first time that these aggressors were terrorizing me.. In fact, most every time I ventured out of the norm, whoever “they” were drew their pitchforks. Building a business—they were there. Posting on social media, they weren’t far.
Strange thing is . . . they were never there. My imagination turned hateful tricks. But why? I’d allowed the habit of caring too much about what people believe of me. What is the root of this? Perfectionism. Ego.
How did I fix it? Practice. Noticing that these voices were never real, these people were not real, and then deciding it wouldn’t matter anyway. You can’t control what people like and don’t like. You can’t control the world’s cruelty. You can only control how you respond.
So as you dare to stand out, it’s important to remind yourself that there is no them. There is only you. Create what makes you happy.
If you do that, you are taking a risk that some will not like it, but you are also taking a chance that many will need it. They will see it and be moved. It will provide them healing of some sort. It will give them a laugh.
What you build is for you and others like you. Not for them.
Love,
Tessa.
