There’s Always a Critic

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dedicated my life to trying to model the ‘ideal’ in as many ways as possible. Perhaps chalk this up to parents and the “system” who impressed a minimal room for error mentality at an early age, whether it was academics, baseball, my personality and conduct, you name it. Over the years I started to develop this way of life for myself — striving to excel in every aspect while attaining and maintaining genuine interpersonal relationships. I need to be excellent, I need to constantly improve across various platforms, I need to have quality relationships with just about everyone I come across, and I need general approval from others (I don’t need every single person to fall in love with me, but I believe I’m a good person and therefore think others should feel the same way..). While this mentality has an immense amount of benefits including an insane drive that helps me achieve new heights at a more frequent basis, it can also be extremely unhealthy if not kept in check. Inevitably as humans we fall short of our goals, thus we need to allow and anticipate room for error. This is where we grow; we should look at our mistakes and recognize what went wrong, and alter our approach for next time. This is entirely natural but not easy to accept, especially for a perennial “perfectionist.” To recognize we’re deficient in an area, especially in front of others or on a public forum, is challenging and a blow to our ego which tries to control us. But if we shift our mindset to allow for this line of thinking and realize every failure is an opportunity for success, we set ourselves up for a prosperous life of internal peace. We no longer have to worry how we “appear” in front of others or how we’re doing at each point of the day. Just putting forth your best effort becomes enough. I don’t have this down yet (I’m far from it), but I’m working on it.

One of my admitted weaknesses includes connecting with others on the phone. To me, it means squandering my productivity along with the invasive potential to pry into my life in ways I don’t want it to be pried into. Why can’t we text so I can get other things done? But truth be told, I’m realizing more and more as I age that phone conversations enable you to connect on a level not attainable through the eclectic mix of social media platforms available. I get this. I still can’t do it everyday, but I’m committing to increasing my weekly frequency, especially during a time when I’m living virtually on my own in a new state for residency. Recently I try to embark on phone conversations every Saturday and Sunday — it still makes me nervous when they go too long, but alright, cool, I’m making progress.

Having said this, a recent Saturday I attempted to pursue this personal goal by calling my Uncle who is near and dear to my heart, to catch up on our weeks and respective lives. I did this at a coffee shop not too far from my apartment at about 7:30am, a seemingly innocent place and time to speak on the phone, or so I thought. I noticed the conversation extending (insert panic mode.. just kidding) and still hadn’t ordered my coffee. I planned to wait until I got off the phone, but realized my caffeine receptors couldn’t wait any longer to be fulfilled. I proceeded to walk up and place my order, making sure to smile and speak nicely granted in a minimalist manner considering I was still conversing. I noticed the woman taking my order was less than friendly and I thought, hmmmm, maybe she’s just a quiet person or having an off day. Then I noticed her fellow barista size me up and down a few times, offer me some pretty ghastly looks along with a clear head nod of disapproval. Kind of like a “pffft, are you kidding me?!” Now, sizing me up and down is no problem and something I appreciate from a woman (ha!), but the way she went about it didn’t sit well. My internal balance system was flaring at its finest. I wasn’t sure if it was due to my insanely tight joggers, my phone conduct, or perhaps her possession of a general disapproval for life. Regardless of the reason, I let this consume my mind until I was off the phone in which I proceeded to confront her and find out if I did something wrong. *Insert Justin trying to be proactive with his interactions and attack a problem head on — which directly contradicts the thought of “I shouldn’t care what others think” — go figure. Every motivational approach tends to be in conflict with the other, but hell, this time it felt right to see what was up. I digress.

Her response went along the lines of, “well to be completely frank, it’s incredibly rude for you to be on the phone when you’re interacting with another human being. Being in the food service industry we are humans too and we expect a certain level of interaction.” I was taken aback by her comments but immediately went into defense mode. I mentioned how I still engaged in eye contact and said please and thank you, but was in an ongoing conversation I couldn’t end at the moment and still wanted to place my order. She didn’t care. I ended the exchange with “thank you for your opinion,” as everyone is certainly entitled to their own and we can’t consume our lives with what others think all the time if we plan to strive for mental health. Boy, she didn’t like that. She continued to go on and on about how it’s not her opinion but rather it’s common courtesy not to be that ‘rude,’ in a seemingly endless attempt to try to make me feel bad about myself for this harmless act I committed. All of this at 7:30am in a small coffee house, about 9 bodies within earshot. Goodness.

The real question is: why did I even care to consume myself with the looks she threw my way? Why did I need to engage and follow up with her? This woman means nothing to my life and I probably won’t see her again, unless I decide to frequent that shop (chances are minimal now after the aforementioned bad vibes). I’ll tell you why. This approach is deep rooted in my inner workings, a system ingrained from a young age in an effort to always make sure “everything is okay” or “no one is mad at me.” This line of thinking is incredibly self-limiting and sets you up for failure because there will always be a critic. I could’ve also titled this article “it’s not always how it looks,” because little did she know I was innocently trying to better myself by maintaining important connections with my family, while simultaneously craving my espresso fix. She chose to be personally victimized and insulted by my actions when in reality she could’ve realized perhaps what I was doing was important too, and I had no intentions of harming anyone. I won’t get into how debilitating self-victimization and “they’re out to get me” is, but this example drives the point home that there will always be someone who disapproves of your actions and decisions regardless of how well-intentioned they are. So with that in mind, shouldn’t you be your full, authentic self at all times? As long as you’re not embarking in danger or inflicting physical pain on someone else, I think the answer is yes. Usually what’s stopping you is worry and fear regarding the response from others. When in actuality, the negative feedback you get from pursuing your passions and true self is often because they’re too afraid to do it themselves with their respective interests. They’d rather make you feel uncomfortable about your decision to strive for more in life, to seek serenity and pursuit of what makes you feel alive. And there will always be people like this in your life. The key is not to let them inflict and derail you along your path. Because that’s when hate trumps love.

On my way out, I felt compelled to engage with her one more time and let her know I hope she has a nice day and I didn’t intend to upset her in any way. Again, Justin trying to be the pacifier and make sure no one felt bad on his account. But next time, I will truly consider letting her react in whichever way she wants to without a need to inquire. Then I’d really be closer to my intention of letting the critics do their thing and I’ll do mine. For now, I’m still figuring it all out.