My Name's Blurryface ...

... and I care what you think.

I've always tried to convince myself that I didn't care what people thought about me. The older I get, the more I realize how much I care.

Towards the end of this past week, I had to put my foot down about a few things and it resulted in a slight uproar. As this was happening, it dawned on me that I really cared about people view me. I was afraid that my decisions were going to impact the relationships I had built thus far and that they were going to like me less. And that's how it felt. For a moment, I was really worried that people were all going to hate me and stop talking to me the way they had been. I'd worked so hard to develop individual relationships that I was concerned if I put my foot down too hard, they'd crumble.
After some deliberation, I found a happy medium to stand my ground, but also appease others.

As I was writing this out, I had a flashback to something an ex had said to me a few years ago. We were at Arcadia and as we were leaving one of the buildings, I held the door open for a bunch of people, even though they were really far away. They were elderly people so I was trying to be nice, but my ex had said that I did it because I was afraid of what they would think about me if I didn't hold the door. At the time, I tried to convince this person that I wasn't afraid of what they'd think and that I was just trying to be a decent person. The more I think about this instance, the more it rings true: I do care what people think. Most of the time, I just want people to see that I am a decent person, but to whose gain? What does it really matter what people think about me? I know that I'm a good person so why should I care what everyone else thinks? I guess that's a side effect of being human.

I was told when I get older all my fears would shrink,
But now I’m insecure and I care what people think.
My name’s ‘Blurryface’ and I care what you think