I am with you on lack of tolerance for BS. People make bad life-decisions. Decisions have consequences. It is not on me to save people from themselves. “Not my circus; not my monkeys.” |
Perhaps I am misunderstanding OP's question or your response, but how is this related? Whether you care about people is not the same as whether you care about whether you are impressing other people. |
Lol! Well said. |
| Recently realized I'm allowed to not like people. I used to worry so much about whether people liked me and didn't bother to consider the converse. |
No. As I get older, exactly the opposite. |
That is the epiphany I had this year. It took a big blow to get me there but what good is it to invest so much energy in someone who will drain my energy when I am with them. If you don't even like someone don't worry about cultivating a connection. |
This! I was a people pleaser and thought I had to get people to like me. What a waste of time and energy. Now I just don't care, its the best |
I agree with this completely. Also, now that I am older, I'm actually less empathetic when people do stupid things and end up with stupid results. |
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I often felt my emotions were somehow not real or authentic a lot when I was a teen/young adult. Part of that is I had a sibling who died by suicide, this was in the late 60s and I was 14. At the time suppressing the reality of suicide was very pronounced and his death was never legally determined suicide (gun cleaning accident, but happened right after a family quarrel; I also learned 20 years later there was a note; my younger sister had found it in our mom's dresser long before, told me, on my next visit home I looked at there it was--parents had moved twice in the years between. So there were many years of living an experience vs the expressed version, and part of me knew what it was and the other part was telling the first part I was indulging in fake emotions and drama. In fact, in our whole family my sister is the only person I ultimately had long conversations with about this, although after many years it seemed like brief references were made my family members more readily.
But my dad died suddenly when I was 39 and I was devastated. Sometime after the funeral I wrote to a friend from college saying how I discovered I did in fact have completely real feelings, and ever since I have realized although sometimes I have conflicting emotions about some things, they are definitely real and not fake at all. |