I am an ‘over-carer’. Over-thinker and over-carer. Apparently I am an empath which means feeling all the feels for everybody and their stories and all the stuff going on in the world. I’ll introduce you to my friends, worry and anxiety, in another post but their contribution to my life means that I cry, sometimes a lot. I cry at adverts, competition shows, movies, disappointments, memories, photographs, the news (though to be fair I think we all feel like crying when it comes to the news). I feel a lot. I over-think what people must be feeling and thinking which in turn meant that I worried about how people might be thinking and feeling about me.
I am definitely one of those that cared too much about what others thought about me. Notice the past tense. I’ve come a long way. I’m still working on it, but I’ve come a long way. Age is a wonderful promoter of a ‘no fucks to give’ mentality and so is living life with all its messy, yucky, beautiful, wondrous experiences. I just don’t have the time, patience, energy or need to care what random folk think about me. And thank goodness. Because being a woman and mumma in the world today means that you are a target for judgement, hard core. About. Everything.
But the people I call friends?
It struck me the other day, when ushering my beautiful friend and her bub through the door for a visit that I was NOT prepared for, that actually I have just the most wonderful people in my life… who do not care. We are all working on our own shit and trying to do our best. I know and love people with different backgrounds, interests, jobs, experiences, beliefs, styles, ideas and energy levels. And they are all good…and messy…and amazing. I have friends that are my unwavering cheerleaders and think I can do no wrong and ones that call me out on my bullshit and many who do both. I have ones that write me beautiful messages and check in every week and ones I don’t hear from for a long while. Most can absolutely rip the piss out of me (and they know I secretly love it).
But none of them really care.
Here are some of the things my people do not care about:
- If my house is clean
- If I put the nice smelling air freshener on the right amount of time before they arrived.
- If I made lunch or bought lunch or even if it’s even ready.
- If TD is being weird and not wearing pants. (Or more likely ‘pants-ing’ himself in front of them)
- If Fur Baby slobbers a bit…or a lot (okay, so they may care about this but they say it’s ok…thank you).
- If I’m wearing make up…or not.
- If I’m wearing jeans or legging (let’s be honest…even the jeans are leggings).
- If my hair is shampooed or dry shampooed or even that clean.
- If I’ve kept in touch enough…or too much.
- If I’ve forgotten their birthday…or remembered it but forgot the gift….again.
- If I over apologised for forgetting their birthday and/or gift…again.
- If my body looks a certain way…or not.
- If I workout…or not…or too much.
- If I work full time or part time or at all.
- If I’m a bit of a hippy.
- If I force them to hug me (when I force them to hug me).
- If I recycle all the things that can possibly be recycled.
- If I eat meat or salad or too much or not enough.
- If I drink coffee or tea or both or with milk or with how much milk.
- If I breastfed TD enough, not enough or at all (6 months…oh the guilt)
- If I believe in God or Spirit or the universe or nothing at all.
- If I do cardio or weights (though for me cardio equals faster weights)
- If I notice every dog in the vicinity, even that one on the other side of the park behind the tree.
- If I point out the clouds, trees, birds, moon, rainbows or any other nature features (hippy).
- If I spout off weird facts about weird things.
- If I slip into ‘Canadian’ while talking (to be fair, that’s just a bit of fun for everyone).
- If I post a lot on social media (when I post a lot on social media).
- If I grew up rich, poor or boringly middle class.
- If I have another baby (nope).
- If I parent like pro or just try my best (wing it).
- If I see them once a week, once a month or once a year.
Worry and anxiety mean I can and do worry about these things. And many, many… many more. But my friends don’t. So one less thing to stress about. Yay!
Whether I know you well or am just getting to know you, if we have seen some shit together or our relationship is still in the early days…if you are about, you are my people. I see you. Thank you for being in my life and teaching me stuff.
Thank you for not caring. I don’t care either.