Approval-Seeking Behavior

I was walking around the track at our local community college while talking with my dear friend Jewel about my recent failed attempt at approval-seeking behavior.  Well, actually the behavior wasn’t failed, I did the thing I thought I should do to get the approval, get the love in the form I wanted it, but the anticipated and hoped-for love was not forthcoming.  And what it looked like was someone who I wanted to like me and be nice to me and maybe even invite me to stuff didn’t seem to like me and was not nice to me and didn’t invite me to stuff.

So I was sad.  Sad and hurt.  Sad and angry.  And also really really hurt.  

Plus, kind of, confused.  Because the person whose approval I was seeking in this particular instance wasn’t even a star player in my life.  Not like a boss or a parent or a spouse or even a super-close friend or family member whose opinions and love it would have made some sense to care about.

No, this was a kind of random fellow-traveler who showed up, it turned out, to teach me how toxic it is for me to be seeking validation from other people — anyone — including those people closest to me.  

I mean, how perilous an existence is it when my feeling good or bad about myself is dependent on how other people perceive me or treat me?  How perilous is it to live in constant pursuit of that big green check mark — “You’re Good!” And constant fear of the big Red X — “Bad!”

Like, zoinks.  It’s an effing scary world when I give you the power over my right to exist and feel good.  And btw how un-fun for the people who never asked for that kind of power over me, probably don’t want it because they’re just doing their lives the best they can, in my presence.  Their lives are not about trying to make me feel good or bad — what a crap gig that would be!  Their lives are about their stuff, not my stuff.

Anyway, today I have a choice.  I am a grown up person and I choose to reside in a constant state of knowing that I am loved, safe, and protected  because I am a person, independent of what I do, weigh, or earn.  

Or where I live or what I wear or how I parent or how blonde or not blonde I am this year or whether my nails are done/not done, long/not long, if I’m vegan or paleo or festive or sleepy or loud or laid-back or productive or fallow or sociable or needing alone time.  Or having made the bed or not made it, done the dishes or not done them, crafted the holiday cards or just made some squiggles on 8.5x11 printer paper (I totally did that).  I’m enough.  

And heck ya my feelings get hurt, that happens. Yes I like being liked.  And I suspect giving up the hunt for green checks and the flight from red X’s will put me in a less vulnerable spot, a spot more ripe for pleasant co-existence with others as we all trudge along doing the best we can with what we’ve got at any given moment.  I’m gonna give this non-hunting, non-fearing, pleasant co-existence thing a whirl.  I’m gonna keep going.  ✅

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