I think we’d all like to believe that we don’t care whether anyone pays attention to us.  We’re heroically forging our own path, and if other people don’t care about what we’re doing or think it’s important, that’s just their loss.  But if we’re honest with ourselves, I think we’ll see that the reality is a little different.

If you’re a blogger, for example, can you truthfully say you don’t care whether anyone reads what you write?  If it didn’t matter whether anyone read your writing, why would you bother blogging at all?  Just to organize your thoughts?  Sorry, but I don’t buy it.

Uh oh, now we’re treading into dangerous territory, aren’t we?  If you admitted you wanted attention from others, wouldn’t that make you a narcissist?  A people-pleaser?  A needy child in a grownup’s body?  There’s nothing good about that, is there?

The Gift of Narcissism

Or is there?  Do you suppose Michelangelo would have spent four years painting the Sistine Chapel if he didn’t care whether anyone saw it?  That Shakespeare would have written all those plays if he didn’t care whether anyone read them?  That Michael Jackson would have recorded Thriller if it didn’t matter whether anyone heard it?

My point is that the human desire for attention has gifted us with a massive amount of brilliant creative output.  If people didn’t care about being noticed by others, the world would be far poorer for it.

And, yes, that same desire has probably produced some horrors in human history.  I’ll grant you that, if Hitler didn’t care about getting attention, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to become chancellor of Germany.  Maybe he would have stayed an unappreciated artist.

But all this means is that our desire for attention, like any other human quality, has light and dark sides.  It isn’t inherently good or bad.  If we consciously harness it, it can help us do incredible things for the world.

Letting Go Of Denial

I think it’s a shame, then, that we often hate and deny our desire for attention.  Instead of acknowledging it in ourselves, we project it onto others.  “They’re the narcissists and people-pleasers,” we tell ourselves.  “I’m just doing my own thing.”  Or maybe we see it in ourselves, but do our best to keep it hidden.

What if, instead of hating it, we accepted — and maybe even appreciated — this part of ourselves?  What if we recognized that, without it, we’d be less able to give our gifts to the world?

I know, the ideal in personal growth is for your work to be an expression of your wholeness, rather than an attempt to become whole.  But there’s a reason we call that an ideal.  It’s something we aspire to, but we don’t usually achieve 100% in practice.

It may sound like a paradox, and in a sense it is, but if you want to be fully okay with yourself, I think you need to accept the part of yourself that doesn’t feel okay unless it’s getting attention.  You can’t have unconditional self-love without loving all of your parts, imperfect as they may seem.

Oh, and thanks for paying attention to me and reading this.

Related posts:

1. Guest Article At Urban Monk: “How To Build Confidence By Just Paying Attention” I know, I’m in a guest-posting frenzy recently, but here’s another one...
2. Attention Is The Best Rapport-Builder As I enjoy writing and public speaking, and generally put...
3. How To Build A Longer Attention Span (and a Change Blog-O-Rama) I’ve published a post at The Change Blog called “How...

1.  I’m afraid I’m not really a good writer.
2.  I’m fearful about being embarrassed by what I write.
3.  I’m afraid nobody will buy this book.
4.  I’m worried I’m not original with what I write.

What struck me most about this list was how ordinary and familiar the fears on it seemed.  I’ve certainly experienced all of them at various moments in my life, and I’ve worked with several other people who have dealt with them as well.  I also saw how empowering it can be just to understand that many people share the same worries we have, and that our fears are actually quite common and ordinary.

We tend to assume our anxieties are unique to us, and that no one else would understand if we told them what we’re afraid of.  Instead, we suspect others would ridicule us, see us as weak, or simply be unable to relate.  Thus, we tend to avoid revealing our fears, unless we’re talking to a professional.  Keeping our anxieties to ourselves this way tends to leave us feeling alone and alien—as if we’re fundamentally different from others, and we have to mask our true selves to interact with the world.

When we get a rare glimpse into others’ worries, we see that, although others might not usually admit it, they have many of the same fears we do.  When we have this realization, the feelings of alienation and isolation that come from concealing our anxieties tend to subside.  The fears we experience, for better or worse, are a standard-issue part of being human.  Seeing how average our fears really are makes those anxieties seem easier to handle as well, because we know others have dealt with them and pulled through.

In this article, I’ll share three ways we can help ourselves recognize that our fears aren’t that original, that others are dealing with them as well, and that we’re actually more human than we may have suspected.
 
1.  Have A “Fear Exchange.”  When someone listens to our fears without mocking, judging or ostracizing us, or responding in some other hurtful way, suddenly those fears start to feel less threatening and more manageable.  Better yet, when they’re willing to admit they feel the same way sometimes, the sense that our fears make us unusual or alien also falls away.

Because revealing what we’re afraid of can feel unsafe, one way to get more comfortable doing it is to agree with someone else to do what I call a “fear exchange.”  This means exchanging lists of what you’re afraid of, or agreeing to each share one worry at a time, so that both people are equally vulnerable. 

I’ve done this exercise with some of my personal growth-obsessed friends.  It not only helps us learn more about and get closer to each other, but it also helps us recognize that, in the immortal words of Phil Collins, “we’re not that different at all.”

There are many ways to do this exercise, but the one I prefer involves just sitting across from someone, and taking turns revealing whatever anxieties you may be experiencing in the moment.  For example, the conversation might look something like this (“A” and “B” are the two people doing the exercise):

A:  I’m afraid you don’t want to be here with me right now.
B:  I’m afraid you’ll think I’m a mean person.
A:  I’m afraid you’ll tell someone else what I’m telling you.
B:  I’m afraid that I look tense to you right now.

This is obviously easiest to do with someone you trust, and who—if you feel it’s necessary—will commit not to reveal anything you say to someone else.  Although it can be confronting, it’s also likely to be cathartic and deepen your relationship with the other person.

2. Let Go Of The Need To Be Special.  Although most of us think it’s unpleasant to feel afraid, there’s also a way in which we tend to get subtle ego gratification from our anxieties.  We sometimes come to see our particular hangups and neuroses as making us special.  Although identifying with our fears can feed our need to stand out and be unique, this habit can also have us cling to those fears and have trouble letting go of them.

A common example of this is the way many people refuse to do certain activities because “that’s just not who they are.”  I have a friend, for example, who I’ve been trying to convince to go rock climbing with me for a long time.  Although he suspects it would be fun, he’s always refused to go anyway, because he says climbing just “isn’t what he’s about.”

Although this attitude limits his enjoyment of life by preventing him from trying new things, it also gives him a comforting sense of who he is.  He knows what he’s “about” and what he isn’t “about,” in other words, and the sense of security that knowledge offers is more important to him than expanding his horizons.

If you find yourself identifying with your fears this way—and most of us, I think, do this in some area of our lives—I invite you to take a serious look at whether those fears are actually part of who you are, and whether this approach to life is serving you or restricting the joy and fulfillment you could be experiencing.

3. Notice Similar Themes In Great Stories.  One common observation people make about great books, movies and other forms of story is how universal they are—that is, we can recognize our own thoughts and feelings in the characters.  Shakespeare’s characters are often noted for this quality.  In Macbeth, for instance, we can see our all too human fear, guilt, and weakness.  In Hamlet, we can see our own vengefulness, indecision and melancholy.

I think people most enjoy reading fiction when they can find characters they identify with.  When we read about a character who shares our anxieties and hangups, we recognize that our fears, and other aspects of our personalities we see in the character, are part of the human experience, rather than something that makes us weird, alien or crazy.  Of course, the character isn’t real, but they’re based on the author’s observations of themselves and others.  When we realize our fears aren’t special, but are actually quite ordinary, they start to seem more manageable and easier to move beyond.

If I start feeling worried that some aspect of my life situation isn’t working out—whether it’s something about my career, relationships or something else—it’s comforting to me to recall all the characters I’ve read about who experienced the same worries, and the fact that so many others (real and fictional) have been where I am before.

Related posts:

1. Simplifying Your Fears, Part Two: Owning Our Disowned Energies I wrote an article a while back about how, ultimately,...
2. Simplifying Your Fears I often work with people who feel crushed under the...
3. Simplifying Your Fears, Part Three: Transcending Your Boundaries I believe many of our fears, career-related or otherwise, stem from...