I Really Care Too Much About What People Think
74: I talk about everything all the time. Am I a part of other people’s everything? And do I want to be? Do people talk about me when I'm not around?
📣Tiny Announcement1
“I don’t know and I don’t care!”
I mean, sure, it would be nice if I could make decisions without the constant thoughts of wondering how everyone in my life would react to it. The reality is, I do care. Way too much.
Humans are naturally social creatures. Rejection doesn’t feel good to anyone. But it seems my high sensitivity and my history of rejection traumas make for an especially spicy slap to the heart when I am rejected. I am learning every day, with every post and every interaction, to care a little bit less about how I’m perceived and judged. I wish I could simply declare it, but it’s a lot harder than that.
I would love not to care if someone agreed with me or not.
I would love not to care if someone thinks I have I intelligent things to say or not.
I would love not to care if someone hasn’t texted me back in weeks.
“‘Cause the world keeps turning
round and round
Like I’m easy to forget about.”
Who am I to other people? Do they see me clearly? Do they like me? Do they need me? Do they think about me when I’m not around?
What am I known for?
Months ago, when my Discover Weekly suggested songs by this AI artist called “Girly Girl Productions,” I had a tiny internal breakdown. I thought of all the poetry I’ve written in my notes app and suddenly felt shameful. Was I a basic bitch?
Does anyone else fear being like everyone else? I don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb, but I certainly don’t want my inner life to mirror the thoughts and feelings of any random girl in the Midwest. When the song “Notes app Girls!” came on my Spotify, I became momentarily consumed by the idea that everything I do and think might be something that millions of other people do and think as well. And for that reason: why would anyone to read my writing?? Am I pondering things another Gabby doppelgänger out there is pondering? Am I the Gabby doppelgänger??
“A girl writing in her notes app
is her magical power.”
A lot has changed since then.
I became way less worried about if I was like everyone else and spent way more time being anxious that I was the only one.

When I was fired, I felt like Elphaba hearing Madam Morrible call her a wicked witch. Most everyone I had hoped would have my back believed the story that was given to them. And even though the stormy months following had me flipping back and forth between relief and grief (not unlike Rapunzel leaving her tower for the first time), it was like the tornado dropped me down into a truly vibrant place where I felt free to lean into my creativity and authenticity.
The only thing that holds me back now is this idea of who I need to be. With some people accusing me of changing or not “sounding like myself,” I’m forced to continue the fight with my fear of rejection. Now that I’m allowed to be myself, will I choose to be?
There’s definitely a characterized version of me that is more tolerable to some, but that’s only a part of me. I’m sunshiney and I’m furious. I’m enthusiastic and I’m depressed. I exist in multitudes that cannot possibly be contained in any one person’s view of me.
And yet, I’m scared to trust my intuition. I want to have courage.
“But imagine me having
nothing to prove and nothing to lose
And have the courage to be nobody nobody nobody
Nobody could hold me down”
Getting to Know Myself
What some may call an over-correction or chronic oversharing on the internet, I call processing. A part of me that has never been allowed to lead the way is taking the wheel for the first time. So, my decisions look different, what I say is different, and— damn— I have been living through the lens of shame for far too long.
My deconstruction party is looking a lot like a rage room (which I am totally gonna check out— why haven’t I thought of this earlier??) and I’ve been doing a little bit more smashing than building.

But as I grow through all of this insanity, I will find my own limits. I will define what is truth to me and live in a way that I truly believe is good. Even while typing this, I’m thinking about what others will think of it, but this is where I am and I don’t want to feel bad about it! I don’t want to put any pressure on myself to come out of this in any particular way.
I want to experience life fully, learn what I must, and then probably tell everyone about it here. That’s vulnerable, and maybe a bit risky. But that’s what is making me feel alive. I feel the air underneath my wings and the sun on my face and I don’t think I got this much fresh air all summer.
“Had to cut some hoes loose, yeah
NDA, no loose lips
Now them hoes tryna sue me
Bitch, I don't give two shits”
But,
because I exist in multitudes, there are some very serious times— just as potent as the air under my wings— where another part of me takes the wheel and sinks deeply into the melancholy of it all. The anxieties surrounding living expenses and insecurities about what others are seeing when they see me focusing on writing. Do I need to sell my soul to a company to be able to afford to go on a Disney trip ever again? The core wounds of rejection feel like a blackhole inside of me and I feel completely alone over and over again. I’m grieving the loss of my community, friends I used to call my found family. There was so much pain in losing those “hoes I had to cut loose.”
What if I miss those hoes, ya know?
Where am I supposed to be right now? I was excelling at the path they laid out for me— should I have just stayed there? What have I done?
“Once, I was the great hope for a dynasty
Crowds would hang on my words, and they trusted me
Their faith was strong, but I pushed it too far.
I held that grudge ‘til it tore me apart!”
Yes,
there are days where I feel I can truthfully declare I am 85% healed. Then, a day later, I realize I am not anywhere near the finish line— if there even is one.
Will I always be swaying this violently with the winds of this change? Will I ever have my feet fully on land, free of the relentless rockiness of the sea?
And if I do find myself on land, will it be here or somewhere else? Am I meant to stay here and make my town better or find sanctuary in a more accepting town where I don’t have to worry if Oakley will learn the secretly evil ways of hyperconservative religious organizations?
And if I leave, what do I become in the eyes of people I loved or who used to love me? Will they miss me or will they be relieved that I’m gone?
When I’m not around, am I spoken of like a project? Just another wayward family member that everyone’s praying for and tolerating the yapping of?
And when I die, will they flatten my multitudes into a eulogy borrowed from Mother Theresa? Will huge parts of me be chopped off so they can mourn me in a way that’s more comfortable and conformable for them?
“Don’t say words
that you don’t mean.
When I’m gone,
please speak well of me.”
Being Known & Accepted
I feel most loved when I feel known and accepted. As an enneagram 4, I long to be understood. But, as a former CCV person, I know how terrible it feels to be known and REJECTED.
There seems to be a lot of different definitions of love out there.
At my former church, the ultimate act of unconditional love seemed to be Jesus dying for us. But, that message is twisted when suddenly that “unconditional” love is only unlocked when we admit we’re dirty sinners, change who we are, and give our lives to God— meaning we serve His kingdom in the way the church sees fit. I think Jesus loves me, but the church certainly did not.
The dictionary defines love as an “intense feeling of deep affection” or “a great interest or pleasure in something.” I think this leans a little more toward what love means to me, but this definition feels fleeting and lacks commitment.
A children’s book I got from the library said that “loving someone means you like being near them. As near as you can possibly get!” And even though I do think this is true many times, it does fit a more childlike view of love that lacks the complexities that develop in the longterm.
“I need a little less clever
and a lot more heart.”
Love seems to be different for everyone.
Gosh, why the hell did it have to be so complicated? It would be a lot easier if we all loved the same way so if someone loved us, we would know for certain.
But maybe it isn’t clear because the magic is made when we show each other love. Without clear knowledge of how love is received or shown from each person, we have to work at it and communicate until we learn each other’s love languages. And no, I’m not talking words of affirmation as much as I am talking about tone, or frequency, or depth.
To me, love is…
Calling someone when you’re sad and need to vent and hanging up an hour later laughing and smiling and feeling filled up.
To me, love is…
Hugging tightly in a way that would be awkward with someone you didn’t share that bond with.
To me, love is…
Crying in front of each other.
To me, love is…
Accepting someone for who they are and letting them shine in all their uniqueness. Not tolerating or allowing their differences, but celebrating them.

And when I look at the people closest to me,
who plan when they’re going to see me next,
who ask the real questions and want the real answers,
who see me for who I am and aren’t afraid of it…
I don’t feel seasick.
I don’t have a blackhole in my chest.
I don’t have to worry what they think of me
because I know.
Because I feel loved.
“Who cares if I’m nobody
if I’m somebody to you?”
Knowing There’s Always Tomorrow
In the end, I know that creating things and expressing things in abundance— my definition of me living my life to the fullest— makes me someone who is destined to fail. If I’m wanting to perform on a tightrope, I will have to fall. If I’m putting myself out there, I might be laughed at. I will feel embarrassed at times. If I’m putting my heart into what I do, I will probably get hurt.
But I don’t think it’s worth doing if it doesn’t mean something to me. I cannot let the fear of rejection keep me from living.
“At least you're not that guy watching from the side
Who thinks he's doing better cause he wasn't defeated
When he's just a nonentity who never competed
You're the one who's out there reaching for something greater
And you know it's better to be a loser than a spectator”
In high school, I got the chance to be in this amazingly creative 4-person musical called [title of show]. The playwrights wrote the musical about their creative and emotional process of writing the show, which means the characters in the show are playing themselves and the events of the show happened in real time. It’s real, it’s hilarious, and it’s so deeply meaningful to me.
When you’re in the process of creating, there’s lot of roadblocks that can get in the way of what you want to do. You have to care enough about what you’re creating to push through all of that shit and have a chance at succeeding.
My favorite song from the musical is a wonderful diddy called “Die Vampire, Die!” This song talks about all the voices of people around you and the voices inside your head that can make you feel like you’re not good enough, too much, too offensive, not talented enough… (etc. x10000). They call these voices vampires because they suck the life out of you. So, to get over those mental roadblocks, you need to KILL those vampires and create what you need to create!!
If you usually skip the songs in my posts, don’t skip this one!
“Oh baby, you must escape
And grab it by the nape
of its neck, by the trachea
Fuckin' break it,
go on, drive a stake in
Yeah, there's no mistakin'
Now you're shake and bakin'!“
Forget about this summer— this week has been a doozy. With Zach getting over being sick and then getting food poisoning while working long shifts, all while I got beat down by a monster cold (or undetectable Covid) resulting in missing my last week of art classes before the holidays AND a sad cancellation my beloved Crafty Gals hang (INHALE) all while navigating family holiday event plans and trying to be a good mom to Oak.
Thankfully, my parents were the heroes without capes this week and were able to watch Oak on Zach and I’s most sicky days so that we could rest up enough to actually get better. Now, I’m breathing out of both nostrils and I’m here writing this blog post! Thanks mom and dad!!
With Christmas coming up, I want to give a reminder to myself that you might also benefit from:
I’ve been struggling with resting. I want to get everything done so that Future Gabby will not have to worry about a chore, but there is always more to do. If I do not make time for rest, it will not happen.
So, this holiday season, I will give myself the gift of unearned and guilt-free rest. I don’t need to finish a certain amount of things before I can take care of myself. I will listen to my body cues and give myself what I know I need. I will look after Future Gabby by taking care of Present Gabby.
I’ll leave the light on for myself.
“There’s no saints in the stars.
Babe, there’s no signs in the ceiling.
You get a good feeling,
You go with it.
I’m tryna help you.
If you don’t want my perspective
Why don’t you get yourself over it?”
Weekly Subscriptions & Cancellations💁🏽♀️
the ideas and soundtracks I want running in my head, or not.
🙋🏽♀️SUBSCRIBED to:
These amazingly detailed hamster maze videos on YouTube. Entertaining for the whole family! 😂
THE PARK. It happens to be right next to the library and we’re having a grand ol’ time.
My new haircut. Honestly, I think this haircut IS me.
My parents. I am loving where our relationship is. I am so thankful for their love for my son and for hanging out with him throughout the week so I can get some stuff done, go to appointments, and collect myself enough to screw my head back on and keep going. I am so deeply thankful for them. ❤️
My happy dreams. (Plz??) I have had so many nightmares lately. Almost exclusively. But I thankfully had the most wonderful dream where my childhood dog Mushu, who died when I was in 8th grade, was alive and happy and safe and I just got to hang out with him for a day. I am so thankful for this dream and don’t know where else to put my thanks. .
🤦🏽♀️UNSUBSCRIBED from:
The big carts at Trader Joe’s. Oakley had a blast pushing his own small cart around the store!
Apologizing. “I’m sorry” is almost obligatory to me. It’s just polite to say, but it doesn’t mean anything.
This season of the Ultimatum… damn, did it take the wind out of my sails that TWO COUPLES LEFT. I need a break. Are you serious??
The summer. Can it only return when I’m at the beach??
People who give me a gut feeling that I shouldn’t put my trust in them.
🌻Show & Tell: Library Book Review 2 🌻
As my obsession continues with the library, I am blazing through as fast as Oaky will let me. He really likes to reread books, as did/do I. Zach is relieved that my current hyper-fixation is FREE. I’m up late at night checking if my books on hold are ready to be picked up yet…
Time for some TLCCC💕
Treating myself to: so many fricken trips to the library. I am taking full advantage of the 50 book checkout limit and the 30 book hold limit.
Listening to: The Mars Hill podcast (PHEW) as well as this song—
Crafting: a Frozen 2 blog post (finallllllyyyyyyyy)
Craving: Soup. I was so sick this week. Sick Gab = Give Her Soup. That’s just math.
Caring SO much about: QUEER EYE!! Thank God. A new season in the midst of the stress of the holidays. The world needed this. I needed this.
Also
—if someone hasn’t watched Queer Eye and refuses to
simply because the Fab 5 is queer…
that’s homophobic.
Look. It. Up.
And instead of being offended that I’m calling someone homophobic, you should feel sad that their actions make a marginalized group feel othered. The label is not the problem, their actions are.
I have been getting some really nice compliments on my writing recently. And unsurprisingly, possibly unfortunately for some, this is inspiring me to up my rates. Since writing this blog does take up a good part of my week and— gulp— I think I am a good writer, I am upping my paid subscription costs to $6 a month OR $60 for the year (still saving $10 if you go with the year!). Thank you again to everyone who is supporting my work by subscribing or paid subscribing. It’s very much appreciated and helpful right now during our current financial tough time. 💟