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June 10, 2026

You’re Not Afraid of What People Think

woman in white coat standing on brown grass field during daytime
Boo! Your inner critic has you telling ghost stories again. Photo by Tandem X Visuals on Unsplash

Last year, I emerged from a camping trip with a gnarly tooth infection and some of the worst pain of my life. My dentist took one look, declared she couldn’t help, and sent me to an endodontist.

Enter the doctor I will call Eastern European Judge Judy.

Wiry, curt, and generally frustrated, this woman was not having any of my emotional bullshit. She did not care that I was in so much pain I was weeping; she reacted like I was a spoiled child and snapped, “I’m trying to help you! Stop crying!” She suggested that instead of her cleaning out the infection in the moment, a procedure that might involve more pain temporarily (and her having to deal with my reaction to that pain) that she send me home with antibiotics that might alleviate my pain in a few days.

An earlier incarnation of me might have spun out, apologizing and wallowing in the shame of this woman’s anger at my tears while I (inevitably unsuccessfully) attempted to stop crying.

Instead, I thought, “Wow, she’s really uncomfortable with my feelings, but that’s not about me. I’m going to cry right now because that’s how I feel.” I said to her, “Give me a minute.” I cried for a bit then called her back in and insisted she go to work despite the pain. My tears were not an indication that I was incapable of handling whatever needed to be done. Her suggestion was more about her own comfort than my very real needs as a patient.

It’s not about you.

For many years now, “It’s not about you” has been a mantra. It gives you the distance to put into context everything from a snippy stranger in a parking lot to a boss who snaps at you about typos. The big secret to know is: if someone is acting in an outsized way, that’s when it’s the least about you. Someone is afraid, defensive, in a word: triggered. Give yourself the space from all that.

It’s not even about other people.

Many people I work with as a therapist or as a coach say, “I care too much about what other people think.”

The tricky part about caring what people think is that, the vast majority of the time, you have no actual idea what someone is thinking. Sometimes, what you care about is what they say they’re thinking. Even more often, people are describing an imagined version of what someone else is thinking.

“I’m worried everyone thinks I look dumb in this hat” isn’t actually about what everyone is thinking. It’s about a version of those people you made up in your head, then put words into their mouth. That voice is your own inner critic playing dress-up. So, so often, what we are worried about isn’t what someone else is thinking, it’s what we are thinking about ourselves.

Many times, when you say “I care too much what people think about me,” You’re telling yourself ghost stories and getting terrified. The terrifying part is the spectre of someone else giving voice to your worst fears about yourself. In other words, most of the time when you say “I care too much about what other people think,” it’s not about other people at all. It’s about you. It turns out, you’re excellent at telling ghost stories!

And here’s the real truth about what other people think: those are their thoughts. And you can’t control other people’s thoughts and feelings. Nor are you responsible for them.

The good news is the practice of “It’s not about you” works on both — the real reactions and the imagined ones.

Three steps to build your “It’s not about you” muscles.

For me, working as a therapist is what created a strong enough set of these muscles to show up even through pain and tears. But you don’t have to be a therapist to practice for yourself. Try these three steps when you feel your hackles rising:

  1. Pause. Take a breath. Take three. Especially if you feel yourself wanting to act immediately. When it’s time to break out “It’s Not About You,” it’s usually when someone said something that got your hackles up, or scared you, or made you feel shame. Alternatively, when you get that sudden stomach drop that someone might be thinking something less than generous about you - it’s time for a time out.

  1. Name it internally. What’s going on here? That client who works your last nerve because he changes everything at the last minute? That’s not because your work isn’t good enough. It’s because he doesn’t trust himself enough to delegate. That’s not about you - that’s about his anxiety and insecurity. Alternatively, if you find yourself wondering if the person who hasn’t texted you back might be mad at you - ask yourself three other reasons they could have not replied. (Maybe they’re feeling overwhelmed about something else today. Maybe they left their phone in another room.) That shift in perspective can help you diffuse big feelings faster.

  1. Set a boundary. When Eastern European Judge Judy rolled her eyes at my tears, I asked her for a minute alone. That was a gift to me, acknowledging to myself that I deserve that space. Then I demanded she give me the care I deserve. That client demanding changes at 8PM? That’s an email you shouldn’t be reading, much less replying to. That voice in your head wondering if a friend might be mad at you because the tone of their last reply was off? Ask it to take a break. Because, say it with me, it’s not about you.

When Eastern European Judge Judy came back in the room after my cry break, I had taken off my jacket. She saw my many tattoos and she admonished me, “You have tattoos! You can take pain!” to which I said, “Yes I can, and that is information for you!” As I left, I asked if she might prescribe me some pain medication. She yelled, as she walked out the door, “YOU CAN TAKE ADVIL!”

The final boundary: finding a new endodontist.

Where does this show up for you? Hit reply — I read everything.

And if you think this might resonate with someone in your orbit, send it their way.

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Originally published in The Relay.

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