I’ve been thinking about how much energy we spend trying to control what other people think about us.
And I don’t think it’s always about seeking approval.
Sometimes you don’t even like the person whose opinion is bothering you. You don’t respect how they think. You wouldn’t take advice from them. You wouldn’t want to trade places with them. But let them get the wrong impression of you, and suddenly you feel the need to explain yourself.
Why?
You don’t want their approval, but you still want them to know they’re wrong about you.
And I think that’s where a lot of us get caught up.
We tell ourselves we’re just setting the record straight. We want the truth to be known. We don’t like being misrepresented. And that’s understandable. Nobody wants somebody walking around with a completely false idea of who they are.
But at what point does correcting the record become an obsession with controlling the narrative?
Because you can explain yourself perfectly and somebody can still walk away thinking whatever they want. You can tell the truth, give context, explain your intentions, and lay out every detail of what happened. None of that guarantees the other person will understand you.
Sometimes they won’t listen. Sometimes they’ve already made up their mind. And sometimes they hear everything you say and still don’t see things the way you do.
Now what?
Are you going to keep explaining until they finally give you the verdict you’re looking for?
That’s the part I’ve been questioning.
Why am I working so hard to be understood by somebody whose opinion I don’t even respect?
If I know what I meant, why do I need them to know what I meant? If I know what happened, why does their version of it have to be corrected before I can move on?
And if their opinion has no real value in my life, why am I giving it so much power over my attention?
I think sometimes we confuse being right with needing everybody to know we’re right.
Those are two different things.
You can be right and still be misunderstood. You can have good intentions and still be judged unfairly. You can treat somebody well and still be the villain in their version of the story.
That’s life. Everybody is walking around with their own perspective, their own assumptions, and their own interpretation of what happened. You can’t control all of that.
And trying to control it will wear you out.
Now, I’m not saying let people walk all over you. I’m not saying never defend yourself or let serious accusations go unanswered. If your reputation, your family, your livelihood, or your relationships are at stake, you have every reason to address the situation.
But there’s a difference between protecting yourself and constantly trying to prove yourself.
One is about the consequences of what’s happening. The other is about not being able to sit with the fact that somebody might think something about you that isn’t true.
And I wonder how much of our exhaustion comes from that second part.
We don’t just want to live our lives. We want to make sure everybody understands why we’re living them the way we do. We want to make sure our silence isn’t misinterpreted, our decisions aren’t misunderstood, our intentions aren’t questioned, and our character isn’t judged incorrectly.
At some point, you’re not just living anymore. You’re managing an audience.
Even when nobody asked for an explanation, you’re preparing one. Even when you don’t care about the person, you’re thinking about what they think. Even when the interaction is over, you’re still having the conversation in your head.
And for what?
You can’t make everybody see you clearly. You can’t force people to be fair. You can’t guarantee that the truth will always be the version of events people choose to believe.
What you can do is decide which situations actually require your response.
Sometimes you need to speak up. Sometimes you need to set a boundary. Sometimes you need to protect your name and make sure the facts are on record.
And sometimes you need to let somebody be wrong about you.
Not because they’re right. Not because you have nothing to say. Not because you’re trying to prove how unbothered you are.
But because you have better things to do than spend your life trying to control the minds of people who are determined to misunderstand you.
I don’t need everybody to understand me. I need to stop acting like every misunderstanding is my responsibility to fix.
That’s the difference between wanting to be understood and needing to be understood.
One is human. The other can become a prison.
— Bo