How to Not Give a Flying F
By someone who gave so many fs for 30 years she nearly imploded from internal diplomacy
Once upon a time, I lay in bed sweating over whether I’d said something weird in a WhatsApp group chat. Not because I was rude. Oh no, I’d just used an “x” at the end of a sentence, and then wondered if it came off a little too eager or possibly passive aggressive.
Welcome to the inner workings of a recovering people pleaser.
And no, I don’t mean the cute, digestible kind of people-pleasing that goes viral on TikTok with a pastel filter and a voiceover that says “It’s not your job to make everyone comfortable.”
I mean the kind that physically made me nauseous if I thought someone was cross with me. The kind that made me think, “Oh god, maybe I am a bad person?” because the birthday card I sent made it a day late.
Let me back up.
Childhood Core Belief: Be Good, Be Liked, Stay Safe
I was raised to believe being “good” and being “liked” were basically the same thing. That if everyone smiled at you and called you polite, then nothing bad could happen. You’d be safe. You’d be loveable. You’d be allowed to exist without causing a scene.
I thought I was a shy child.
Then I saw a home video of myself at 9 years old parading around the living room in a home made crop top and essentially shouting “WELCOME TO MY SHOW.”
I nearly died.
Who let her take up that much space?
The cringe I felt watching that back wasn’t from embarrassment, at least I don’t think?
I was mourning.
For the little girl I told to tone it down. To be smaller. Sweeter. Nicer. Safer.
Realisation: Being Liked ≠ Being Safe
Here’s what 30ish years of hardcore people-pleasing taught me:
You can be the kindest, softest, most humble little cookie in the box and someone will still not like you.
Because we’re not robots. We’re not here to be universally approved like seat belts, or air fryers.
So I made a decision:
I wasn’t going to stop giving a f entirely.
But I was going to become very, very selective about what got my fs.
The Very Specific Things I Still Give a F About:
People I love (and who love me back).
Not being an asshole.
Living: not existing for applause.
If it’s not one of those three? It’s up for the chopping block.
And here’s how I made the cut:
Step 1: Accept the Uncomfortable Truth
Some people just won’t like you.
Not because you’re awful, but because… well, humans are weird.
Some people hate cats. Some people hate chocolate. Some people will hate your face and not know why.
It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.
It means you’re quite simply human.
Step 2: Exposure Therapy (a.k.a. Be Cringe on Purpose)
You’re scared of speaking in public?
Post on Linkedin.
Worried people will judge you?
They probably will.
Do it anyway.
Seriously. Do it every day for a year.
Be visibly awkward.
Feel the social horror rise in your throat, and then go to bed.
Wake up.
Do it again.
Eventually, you get so used to the cringe it starts to feel like background noise. Like living near a train station or under the Heathrow flight path (hello Wandsworth.)
Step 3: Compartmentalise
Post the thing.
Write the thing.
Say the thing.
Then mentally shove it in a box, label it “Not My Problem Anymore” and move on with your day.
Want to write a book?
Write 200 words.
Shut the laptop.
Make a sandwich.
Repeat tomorrow.
You’re not a performing monkey. You’re building a muscle. And guess what? You don’t need feedback to keep lifting.
Step 4: Accept That You’ll Be Talked About
If you’re showing up online, starting a business, writing, dancing, living out loud - then people are going to see you.
They will whisper.
Old colleagues. Exes. Helen from year 9 who bullied you.
But guess what?
Being talked about means you’re doing something.
No one gossips about the silent observer in the corner.
They gossip about the person doing something brave, something loud, something real.
Final Thought:
You don’t need to stop caring. You just need to redirect your caring like a laser beam instead of a floodlight.
You don’t need to become bulletproof.
You just need to remember that other people’s opinions are often just projections.
So go be cringe.
Be weird.
Be seen.
Be the strange little girl in the home made tank top who owns the room.
She has it right all along.
I needed to hear this! Thank you
Fellow recovering people-pleaser here! I never comment on things because I fear the **cringe** but I relate so much to this and I'm also using substack as exposure therapy - so f* it, here I am! Love your stuff 👏🏻