“I (REALLY) don't care"
If I have to count the phrases that I have heard most since I moved to the States, “I don’t care” is high on the list. Well, there are a few synonyms, such as “I don’t give it a f*ck”, “I don’t give it a damn”, “I could care less” – you know what I mean.
Whoever says that sounds so badass – “I know you probably don’t like me… but I don’t care.” However, I could never take those words seriously because you can always say you don’t care, but in reality, how can you not? But lately I started realizing that there are REAL people in this world who actually REALLY mean it when they say it, and that puzzles me: how can you not care?
“Care-free”, “light-hearted” are the words my parents/teachers/friends/Blowfish never used on me, because I was totally the opposite: I became super concerned the second when my friends didn’t appear as happy as five minutes before; I was worried whenever I got a new haircut because I was afraid my classmates would not be “used to” my new look and would talk behind me; I hesitated whether I should tell my friends a story that I thought was pretty funny but waited until the time passed because there was a chance they might not like it. You name it.
My parents apparently noticed my struggle and kindly offered their advice early on: Fan, you should stop thinking too much.
Some of my close friends finally noticed my struggle too and offered their advice along the way: Fan, you should stop caring about what others think of you.
Great point guys, but how? To me this is just like telling a student who is falling asleep in class – “You, over there, stay awake.” Tell me if that really works.
So I finally decided to give it a more serious thought myself. I think ultimately it comes down to understanding two aspects: 1) what is my ultimate fear when others don’t speak highly of me, and 2) if that fear is well supported.
First of all, what is my fear? If someone comments that my new hairstyle is not that flattering, I think they are saying I have very bad taste and I feel embarrassed; if someone comments that a photo I just posted on Instagram is not artistic at all, I think they are saying that it is such a joke that I even strive to be a photographer; if my friend doesn’t laugh at my jokes, I think they are saying I am boring as hell. Essentially, I care about what others say about me or my work is because I believe THEIR view defines MY value: a funny story/sharp observation/perfect photo with a hundred “likes”/positive comment in general defines Fan as a valuable friend/co-worker/photographer/human being and then I can claim I am appreciated by this world. Applying the same logic, a lack of response to my storytelling/photo with only five “likes”/negative comment simply means Fan is valueless and thus not appreciated by this world. I am scared that I am perceived as valueless rather than valuable, and thus I care about what others say about me.
Makes sense overall, but only if you agree 100% that whatever measure I used above would reasonably define your value. For example, do you think you are a boring/valueless friend because your story last time was not that funny? And do your friends agree with that conclusion? Or do you think you are a valueless photographer because only twenty people “liked” your photo? And why do you think the other missing eighty people defined your lack of value, while the twenty people didn’t define the presence of your value?
If your honest answer is yes that you truly believe people’s view reasonably defines how much value you have, I want to share with you a secret weapon I treasured: I am pretty sure you forgot one person in selecting the panel of judges – yourself. Whenever I feel rejected by this world again nowadays, I usually start asking myself: Fan, what do YOU think? For example, I got a pair of pretty goofy glasses last year and wore them to work. One of my co-workers saw me and said “Holy sh*t those glasses are weird on you!” I did panic for five seconds honestly and almost rushed back home immediately to put on my contacts instead, then I paused and asked myself: do “I” like the goofy look? Absolutely. Another example, I sometimes post a photo on Instagram expecting one million likes (ballpark), but only got twelve and felt my dream of becoming a world-class photographer was hopelessly shattered. Feeling extremely embarrassed, I wanted to bury my head underground and close my account immediately. Then I asked myself: do “I” like that photo? Yes – so they are still active now. Similarly, if you tell your friends a funny story and people do not laugh to death - do YOU still think that’s a good story to share?
When I was younger I somehow thought I had this superpower (or a better word, fantasy) that if I tailor myself to others’ preferences a little bit, I can become more likable and will be happier. Then as I grow older, I realize that man, people are really hard to please – they like one thing today and a different thing tomorrow. I may post a photo that Blowfish speaks so highly of, but my mother comments like “Dear, what the hell is that? I cannot even see her face clearly!” I start wondering: since I don’t know how many people I can please this time and how many people I will piss of, and I absolutely have no control which side wins, why don’t I just please that one person who, for sure, will like it – which is myself?
If you are still reading at this point, I think I can start telling you how the hell this blog post relates to photography. Mostly it is not – as I mentioned in my bio, sometimes Blowfish cannot even take my overwhelming thoughts so I let it out here. But there is a little bit relevance still – I want to share with you what made me decide to finally start my own website. Objectively, it is no more than paying some money and uploading some photos. However, it means something more to me. I started taking photos many years ago, when I had a serious crush on a guy who was a hardcore amateur photographer and I wanted to create some common topics. (And you are right – that guy is not Blowfish.) But I rarely shared my photos with any friends or online because I was so scared that others would laugh at me and I would for sure be embarrassed to death. Starting from last year, for some reason I gained a bit courage in acknowledging some of my fears, including the fear that people would think I am totally worthless if they see my photos. Acknowledgement was actually the first step to help me realize that particular fear is not that big of a deal because at this moment, I care more about letting my thoughts out, and sharing a different angle of looking at this world with the people who are interested in it rather than proving to the world that I am the best photographer (although I don’t actually know what “the best photographer in the world” means yet). Plus, I actually like every single photo I posted on my website or Instagram myself although there is always room for improvement. What also helps is that as I know more people, I noticed that people are generally pretty busy caring about themselves first, so not that many people will actually care to laugh at me.
Yesterday I was organizing some old photos from a road trip to Arizona with Blowfish and my parents back in 2013. I found a photo of me and Blowfish posing in front of the Grand Canyon. I stared at that photo laughing non-stop for a good two minutes – man, what a happy chubby girl I was back then! Imagine me putting on 25 pounds and feeling totally proud and beautiful - if you are my friend, do not even think about getting this photo.
I showed it to Blowfish, who looked at it, paused for 20 seconds, and said “Gosh - I guess love is blind.” “No honey”, I said, “Love is not blind. Love made you see me through.”
In the end, I don’t think Blowfish, my parents, my close friends, can individually define how valuable I am, although they weight much more than a random person from wherever. Because, ultimately, if I don’t see the value I possess by being myself, I will for sure project that conclusion onto every single one around me, and convince myself that the world simply doesn’t like me.
Life is too short to let that happen to you, my friends.