It's All About Me

We’ve all heard some version of the saying, “You are the center of the world—if you close your eyes, the world goes dark.” It sounds comforting, but I know it isn’t true. I am not the center of the world, and I doubt I have the power to change it in any significant way. But that isn’t the world I want to talk about today. I want to talk about my world—the world as it appears in my own eyes. Over the years, I’ve slowly realized that many things I once thought were about other people were, in fact, about me.

The first time I understood this was through jealousy. Years ago, I found myself envying a colleague’s academic achievements, and I didn’t want to feel that way. But feelings can’t simply be suppressed or ignored, so I brought it up in therapy. I don’t remember exactly what we discussed, but I remember my therapist gently guiding me back to myself, again and again. By the end of the session, I realized my jealousy had nothing to do with my colleague at all. It came from my own dissatisfaction with my academic life. I wasn’t happy with where I was, and either I wasn’t taking action to change it or I felt stuck and didn’t know how. It was all about me. That session was incredibly inspiring, and ever since, whenever something troubles me, I try to step back and ask what is actually happening inside me.

I began to notice the same pattern in my fear of being judged. I’ve always been a little worried about how I speak and how I appear in front of others. I used to think I simply didn’t want to stand out, because it feels uncomfortable when everyone’s attention suddenly turns to you. Over time, though, I started to sense something deeper behind that fear. I once casually talked to a friend that a girl was dressed a bit strangely—only to find that my friend hadn’t thought anything of it. Moments like that made me pause. Slowly, I began to realize something uncomfortable but important: I fear certain judgments because I make those same judgments about other people.

I used to worry that asking a simple question in a seminar would make me look stupid, but perhaps that fear existed because I was quietly judging the people who asked simple questions. And then another thought struck me: I have no real idea what is in other people’s minds. When I imagine them judging me, I’m simply borrowing my own opionions and projecting them outward. So, at the end of the day, the harsh voice I hear from the world is simply my own voice echoed back to me. The standards I imagine others holding are often the standards I hold myself to.

Looking back, I feel embarrassed by some of the immature opinions I used to hold and the judgments I made about other people—even if most of them only ever existed quietly in my mind. But I forgive myself, because I was young, and I suppose we all outgrow some of what we once believed.

That’s why, in a sense, I think my world really is all about me. So much of what I fear, envy, or worry about is filtered through my own mind. So freedom doesn’t come from convincing everyone else not to judge me; it comes from learning to let go of my own judgment first—and, in doing so, becoming gentler with myself. I don’t think I’ve fully learned that lesson yet, but little by little, I’m trying to replace judgment with understanding.

As we grow kinder toward others, we often discover that we’ve been granting ourselves freedom all along.