The Healing Power of Not Giving a F***

It is exhausting giving a fuck about everything. Go figure, right? When your mind tells you that giving a fuck about being on time for all your classes is about the same as giving a fuck about getting into grad school. It is a ridiculous comparison. But this is precisely the type of mind games we chronic people pleasers trick ourselves into believing.

It is hard to determine when I started thinking this way–when everything felt like a life-or-death situation. Even if it was just deciding what I wanted to wear in the morning for school. Is this appropriate? Will mom think it is okay? Will my friends like it? It is just fucking clothes!

What reason could I possibly have to think this way? I can tell you now that it's not a good one.

Growing up with divorced parents, people-pleasing was my survival tactic to keep the peace between my estranged parents. Oh, Dad wants me to come this weekend even though I have an important school project due on Monday? No problem! Mom wants me to tell Dad that he has to pay for my college admission fees? You got it! Both my mom and dad want to have me for Christmas break? That’s okay! I’ll just split my time to ensure I spend time with both parents (even though they live in entirely different cities)! Back then, I convinced myself that I needed to make sure I met everyone’s needs so everyone was happy. These were my parents. Of course, I wanted to make both of them happy, even if I needed to sacrifice a few things to do that.

This behavior was not much better at school. It was worse. I was the biggest teacher’s pet in my class. Always doing what I was told. Always going above and beyond with my schoolwork. Always engaging in class. Anything the teacher wanted from me, I would give away freely. All this amounted to was many long nights spent working, many all-nighters, and an abnormally excessive amount of caffeine for a seventeen-year-old. I gave too much of a fuck about how my status in high school would determine my long-term success after graduation.

With my friends, I was the ultimate pushover. I only did the things they wanted to do. We only talked about the things they wanted to talk about. Every time we got together to hang out, I essentially rewrote my entire personality to be more “likable” and “approachable.” I was a robot programmed to do only one thing: do exactly as I was told, and then some. With my parents, my teachers, my friends. I worked so hard to keep everyone happy that I was the only one who was miserable.

What a tough pill to swallow, huh? Being the source of your problems. But how could I when this programming was hardwired so deeply into my being that it felt unequivocally linked to who I am?

It was not until I went to college that I realized the scope of this problematic way of thinking. The classes got harder, and the student body was larger than I had ever had at my old school. But this is coming from someone who went to a private school with my largest class having 22 students (and that was in elementary school). You would think that having a large class where you no longer stand out would cause a major meltdown for a people-pleaser. But in actuality, I never felt more free in my life!

At college, I was a complete blank slate. There were no teachers to impress. No people to please. Nothing to give a real fuck about. Therefore, I had an important decision to make. I could either keep on going with being a people pleaser and always being in service to everyone, or I could finally decide to put myself first for once. Of course, I still cared about doing well in my classes, but I could give less of a fuck about trivial things such as making sure that my professor knew my name or how good of a student I was. We are in a class with 300 students! They would probably forget it within the week, and I would not blame them. It just did not matter anymore.

All these years of holding my tongue—repressing my true feelings and authentic self—made me grow angry and spiteful. I was never angry at the people in my life who made me feel like I was expected to act this way. Maybe I should have felt some resentment towards them. But truthfully, I was mostly angry at myself. I resented the person I used to be for allowing myself to sit and suffer in silence for so long. I did not want to be that person anymore. If I didn't stop, the cycle would never end. I'd walk myself into the grave with my epitaph reading: Marlenie Menjivar--beloved daughter, sister, and real-life “Ella Enchanted.”

Therefore, I acted out in spite, not to hurt others but to ultimately prove to myself that I do not need to give an absolute fuck about everything to feel fulfilled or happy. I used the word “no” more often. I started cutting out old friends that had no place in my life anymore. I dressed exactly how I wanted to without giving a fuck about what others would think about it. I gave myself more grace when it came to my performance in school. I stopped living to please others and instead decided to live a life that pleased me.

And this is where I reached my epiphany. It is okay to give a fuck about certain things–the things that matter in life, like your family, your relationships, and your values and aspirations. The things that make you, you. What is not okay is when you take this idea too far. To the point where you think that these things define the entirety of your life and therefore deserve the utmost fucks given.

Your family should always take into account your own needs. If your friends make you feel like you need to change yourself to fit in with them, you shouldn't even give a fuck about them. And dreams and aspirations can change. The most important thing to give a fuck about is you! When you learn how to be wise about where you give your fucks, that is when the healing begins.