I’ve been reflecting lately. On 2021. On my life. On the things I’ve done and haven’t done. Not in a bad way. More like a reflection of my past to better understand the present and the future.
It’s weird. Because from the time I turned 18 until I was in my late 20s, I sort of struggled with who I was. I didn’t know what career I wanted. I didn’t fully know who I was as a person. I didn’t know if I had any skills that were worth anything. I wasn’t necessarily a mess, it was just a decade of discovery for me.
The weird thing is, once I hit 30, all of that kind of changed. Well, most of it. Ok, only some of it. I discovered who I was in my late 20s. The person I am, my values and traits, that was all locked in. But something kind of funny happened. Something I didn’t expect. I stopped caring.
What do I mean by that? It’s simple. I stopped giving a shit about what other people thought of me. Last year I read a book called The Subtle Art of not Giving a F*ck. It was a great read and I recommend it to everyone. After reading that book, I was left speechless. I realized that I put way too much effort into things I couldn’t control. About a year later, I finally started taking the advice from the book.
We can’t control everything. We can’t control how people view us. We can’t control what they think of us. We can’t control what they say about us either. But we can control how we react to things. And once I hit 30, I literally decided that people’s opinions of me didn’t matter anymore. If they talk trash about me, that doesn’t matter either. I know who I am and I’m not changing for anyone. I know I can’t control what people say about me, but I can control how I react. And how will I react? I’ll act like I don’t don’t care anymore because I don’t.