Dress to impress

When I was a child I was desperate for my parents' approval. I was scared to ask for anything in case they didn't like it. I would keep silently wearing shoes that I'd long grown out of because I knew how much my mum hated taking me shopping for new ones. When I got a little older I declared my intention of becoming a doctor, thinking it would make them proud. It didn't. While, in reality, they probably would have been supportive whatever I'd chosen to do, it seemed to me that there was just no pleasing them. The less reaction I got, the harder I tried. While most teenagers refuse to communicate with their mothers, I would offer up every story I could think of to mine, dredging up little details, desperately hunting for the one which would make her laugh. It rarely worked. I was the same at school. I modelled my behaviour around what my 'friends' expected of me, crushing every instinct to behave in a way which didn't fit the norm. I still somehow managed to get it wrong though, and continually exposed myself to ridicule. Looking back, my desperation to be liked must have been all too obvious and incredibly irritating.

It wasn't until I was about twenty that I decided enough was enough. I realised that there's little value in a friend who's only your friend because they think you're something you're not, and that it really isn't the end of the world if somebody doesn't like you. These days I still make concessions to others, but only to the extent that I try to behave in a way that's appropriate to the situation. No dancing on tables at a funeral! I also make an effort to be polite to people that I don't like, because I know that I'm a terrible judge of character and may change my mind about them later. I'm not very good at working out who other people really are, but I at least know who I am. And so does everyone else. In some of the circles I move in, people probably think I'm a bit dull, while in others I'm seen as worryingly strange. I guess it's all about perspective. I'm probably actively disliked by more people than I used to be, and I've lost a few people along the way, but I've also never had such good friends. They still ridicule me, but it comes from an affectionate place rather than a spiteful one, and these days I laugh along instead of crumbling in mortification. I wouldn't swap those few friends who mock me to my face for hundreds who'd do it behind my back.