I can remember the first time I realized that another human being didn’t like me. As you might expect, it stretches back to primary school.
It was 1987, and I’d just moved to a new school. It was a state school, and I’d previously been in a Catholic school. To start with, I was unprepared for the antipathy which would come with that – being a boy from a Catholic school gave some kids a rich vein of material to attack me, without even knowing what my own core beliefs were.
Childish exchanges like, “Don’t you believe God is everywhere?” asked one kid, the son of our teacher. He punched the air. “Ha, well I just punched God!”
Then there was Fraser, a nasty bully of a kid who was really sporty and thought he was cock of the walk. He was one of the best athletes in the class, and did extremely well in the humiliating throwing exercise that I’ve talked about previously.
He once asked me what sport I liked. I didn’t particularly like any, but feeling the pressure to answer and hoping that the right answer – or any answer – might help make me part of the group, I answered “golf”. I answered “golf” because my dad used to take me to mini-golf, sometimes with my granddad Snow, and we’d have a great time. I even thought I wasn’t half bad at it.
Unfortunately for me, “golf” was not the right answer. Fraser and his friends proceeded to mock me, and it was behaviour that continued throughout that year, including at the dreaded school camp where I didn’t have the comfort of home to escape to at the end of the day.
There’s a great photo meme doing the rounds online at the moment that says, “Before you diagnose yourself with depression, check first that you’re not in fact just surrounded by arseholes”.
Problem is, at that young age, particularly if you’re a naïve, vulnerable and sensitive sort, you’re not capable of understanding what an arsehole is. I came from a loving, caring family. When someone begins to tease, bully or mock you, how does your brain process it?
Firstly comes the shocking realization that someone doesn’t actually like you. And the first time that happens, it’s horrifying. Then comes the next stage of thinking: why? We’ve yet to develop an observing mind that can rationally process the actions of others when we’re little, so the answer to the question naturally turns inwards. There must be something wrong with me. But what is it?
That latter question will often never be answered in relation to why someone doesn’t like you. I’ve spent many years subsequently in the pursuit of trying to understand why some people don’t like you, and why they would cause you harm. What is wrong with me that I need to change, so that you will change the way you think about me, and therefore the way I think about myself?
It is futile.
I have several friends who, like me, will concentrate with laser precision on the few people in their lives who think negatively of them or their work, while ignoring the majority of people in their lives who love and respect them.
I have other friends who hate being “on the wrong side” of people, and will go to extraordirnary lengths to make sure that they’re well thought of, even if it means telling the other person what they want to hear rather than the truth.
It’s an understandable method of self-preservation, and a big red flag that our self-image is in a poor state.
Next time this happens to you, think of the Occupy Wall Street movement. You know, we are the 99%? Grab that steering wheel and shift course toward the 99% of the people in your life who value your presence and time, and don’t worry about the 1%.
Not everyone in the world is going to like you, and that’s perfectly ok. Are you?
When I was was younger, I used to care if I was on the “wrong-side” of people. Now that I’m close to 50, I don’t care anymore. If you like me, you like me. If you don’t. oh well.
Ahhh bullies. They can all go rot for all I care. the one thing my parents told me from a young age is that not everyone is happy with who they are or what card they are dealt in life and because of that they will go to extreme lengths to bring others down with them (misery loves company). I was told to turn the other cheek and know in your own mind that their opinions don’t matter when it comes to who you are as a person. It still of course didn’t help when kids seemed to have it all and still felt the need to make me feel so small (or fat in my case), but I’ve grown into someone who after a certain point won’t tolerate it anymore. There’s only so much one person can shoulder before they say enough! Standing up for yourself is something that I’ve learned is not easy, but is nessesary. =] Great post Chris!! =]
Yep, similarly guys – I was bullied at school and at home, come to think of it. So I developed the ‘pleaser’ mentality (“do as your told, don’t rock the boat, be nice, don’t upset Dad while he’s sleeping…) and subsequently, I was a sitter for more of the same bullying at school. I think the loudest and most difficult to fix message I ever got from my Dad was akin to the tall poppy syndrome – “Self praise is NO recommendation” – and it rings loud and clear in my head whenever I start to feel pleased with myself for something I’ve done well or that I’m happy about.
And so, I developed the habit of self-doubting thoughts. When bad things happened to me it was because that was all I deserved. Cos I wasn’t a nice person. Etc. Etc. And not surprisingly I ended up in a career in mental health – I think the saying is ‘physician heal thyself’… I have certainly strengthened my inner core belief that I’m a good person – but so many things chip away at it (general health, fatigue, work pressure, etc) that I am constantly reminded of the need for self appreciation. And whilst even making that statement still sits uncomfortably with me, I know that it’s part of my life’s journey, to integrate my ability to like myself – in spite of (and nowadays often because of) what other people of me. Another great post, Chris!
Sounds like we have a very similar school history Chris.
I was also bullied at school and it’s funny but it was not until I was older that I started to worry about people and what they thought of me.
I’m still not good at dealing with critics but it’s always going to be that same sensitive child present when I am dealing with that discomfort.
I have learned to be a bit more gentle with myself and that seems to help quite a bit.
Dr George
i had a similar experience moving from a Catholic school to a state school.
The hardest lesson i have learnt is to not give a toss ( was going to use stronger language) when somebody doesn’t like you. It’s not your problem it’s theirs. Still struggling with this and it is hard to break years of behaviour but I’m working on it.
“It’s an understandable method of self-preservation, and a big red flag that our self-image is in a poor state.” – couldn’t have put it better myself. Nice post, Chris. I see clients struggle with this regularly, and I wrestled with it myself years ago (with remnants still present, but hey, that’s called being human). The sense of freedom you receive when you finally realize that it’s ok to not be liked by everyone is a great feeling. It’s usually a long-winded lesson, but a crucial one.