PEOPLE PLEASER PANIC

JUST TRY BEING YOURSELF, AND BREATHE.

I trust my sister to be the one person in the world who will always tell it to me straight, no matter how ugly. World’s worst haircut? Said she could barely look at me , and was on the phone to her salon down the road within seconds of me arriving in Oslo, begging them for an emergency appointment.

So when she rather bluntly shook her head, and said to me in an exasperated voice the other day on the phone “You are such a PEOPLE PLEASER! Why don’t you try being yourself?” I cringed, and knew she was right.

Because while Camilla The Chameleon can be a right old laugh to hang out with, confidently waltzing in to any social setting with a smile, on the inside she’s often panicking that her scruffy top might not be cool enough. That someone might notice her flip-flops are her Mum’s hand me downs, and not this seasons latest style made by some well known designer. And the hair. Always with the hair that never works. And that she might say something what will hurt/offend/or be taken the wrong way by others.

These materialistic and seemingly insignificant worries are normally combined with one, or all, of the following; Eyebrows start sweating, baby’s nappy fails to deliver and poo threatens to spill out all over if not attended to immediately, toddler clinging on to my legs while jumping up and down (How does he do that? The holding on, AND jumping?), I’ve just ordered the wrong coffee… but who are we kidding anyway, I was never going to be capable of holding that stupidly tall latte glass the way my palms are sweating, let alone get a chance to drink it, what with the poo-spillage and the attention craving bouncy bunny by my side.

And now someone has just asked my opinion about a recent election…

That took place somewhere.

Uhm.. Politics, ey? Guess I forgot to read the paper again this morning past month. Mind has gone blank, and nerves get the better of me, as I offer some ridiculous crap about how the prime minister in Norway has a lovely big cabin in the mountains. Say what? Confused expressions. I can’t really blame them.

And then I start to worry that the now confused receiving party might be feeling offended by this meaningless sentence, as they might take politics very seriously and want friends who can totally relate to all world elections… and worse: they have an even bigger summerhouse in the South of France than the prime minister’s hut somewhere up in the mountains, and crikey they might be really hurt by someone insinuating that owning a large, luxurious cabin is anything but superb, darling . So now I’ve probably offended them, but I can’t really remember the question anyway, and I really, really ought to wipe my palms soon before someone else asks to shake my hand, so, uhm…

And then, breathe. Come on, we learnt all about this during Yoga Class. Breathe.

This worrying is hard work, I tell you. A huge amount of people waste far too much time over-worrying, and let me just tell you; it’s no fun. It’s exhausting. Worrying what people might think, how people will feel, whether you’ll hurt someone’s feelings if you say and have opinions about x instead of y? Spiralling into an overanalysing, anxious state of not being good enough. When deep down we should all know that the people who really matter, happen to think we’re ok. By just being you.

So let’s shake it up a little this year, stop falling into old habits, and give Big Sisters advice a go. I’m thinking it could work. Let’s make it a “New Years Resolution” to not panic about what others may think, and let’s just try being ourselves. (All of a sudden I’m plural? Must be all those different personalities, ey.) Sounds pretty simple, right?

Do you worry about what others may think? Do you worry what effect your insignificant everyday choices might have on someone else’s feelings and emotions? No? Good for you.

/Camilla