Nobody’s Thinking About You

Sometimes it’s surreal to think about how all of us start out in life surrounded by this unbelievably devoted audience—our parents and caregivers—who hang on our every move. Back then, just one tiny dribble of milk on our chin is enough to send someone rushing over with a tissue, and the first time we crack a smile, there’s basically a standing ovation. Any clumsy step we take, someone is there to cheer us on. Then we grow up and—bam—we’re faced with a world where we’re just one more face in the crowd. We begin to see that most people walking by us on the street don’t know who we are and probably never will. It’s a bit of a shock, especially when we realize how little anyone else actually cares about our problems or our quirky little traits. We can feel like we’ve dropped off the radar. Nobody’s going to stop traffic if we trip on the curb. Nobody’s going to wipe away the juice stain on our shirt or coo over our new haircut. It’s easy to feel a twinge of sadness about this and to assume it means something is deeply wrong with us or with the world.

At the same time, while we’re mourning our newly discovered invisibility, there’s a contradictory part of us that worries everyone is watching us—like, truly watching our every misstep. We become convinced the barista is secretly judging the weird tone of our voice when we say “extra foam,” or that our co-worker can’t stop replaying that awkward comment we made last week. We start to believe people are taking notes on our hairstyle, our fashion choices, and every random thing that slips out of our mouths. Somehow, both of these ideas exist in our heads at once: the fear that no one cares at all and the fear that everyone cares too much.

What helps cut through this confusion is taking a moment to honestly examine how little we pay attention to strangers. Seriously, if we think about the last time we were in an elevator with a random person, did we spend more than a second noticing their jacket or hairstyle? Probably not. Chances are we were too wrapped up in our own head, maybe stressing about something our friend said or mentally running through our grocery list. When we see someone in a meeting who’s changed their hair color, we might clock it eventually, but it’s a fleeting thought, not some lasting judgment that keeps us up at night. We have our own tasks, our own worries, and our own circle of loved ones who take up a ton of mental space. That means we have limited capacity to dwell on every detail of someone else’s life.

It might sound a little bleak to acknowledge this indifference, but in a way, it’s actually freeing. It means that while we’re worried about coming off as foolish or awkward, most people aren’t even looking at us that closely. Sure, someone might notice if we show up in the wrong outfit, but they’ll get over it within minutes. They have bills to pay, kids to worry about, texts to send, and a hundred other concerns that overshadow our outfit or the crack in our voice when we nervously speak in front of a group. And that’s a good thing, because it gives us permission to try stuff without freaking out over what others will think. Whether it’s launching a new project, asking someone out, or just venturing an idea in a meeting, we can remember that barely anyone will remember if we crash and burn. They might just give a polite nod and carry on with their day.

When we take this to heart, we realize it’s okay to stumble and look a bit silly sometimes. It’s not that everyone is unfeeling—if we fell off a pier, people would rush to help—but generally, our day-to-day struggles and flubs won’t stay on anyone else’s radar for long. And that’s liberating. It means we can breathe, relax, and focus on living on our own terms instead of trying to please the entire world. After all, the world isn’t paying nearly as much attention as we thought.