Four powerful little words.
Do
you
like
me?
Isn’t it strange that even when I meet new people as a 45 year-old, those are the words still running through my head?
My happiness depends on the answer.
But I am not alone.
On some level, this is the question that haunts all of us. I internalized it very early. And so did you.
On the playground, at school, with your first crush.
I have four kids, one in college, two in high school, and one who just started middle school this year. (Poor baby).
I definitely don’t want their happiness to depend on whether or not they are liked. I like them. Heck, I even LOVE them. Shouldn’t that be enough?
And if I’m being honest, happiness has never been on my list of TOP FIVE goals for my kids.
The Happiness Hypothesis is the 2006 book written by Jonathan Haidt. In it, the author outlines three different ways to achieve happiness, all based on the presupposition that we flourish when we are connected.
So here’s the three kinds of connections:
Between Yourself & Others (Do you like me?)
Between Yourself & Your Work (Do I like what I do?)
Between Yourself & Something Larger than You (Does my life matter?)
If there’s a disconnect in any one of these three areas, happiness turns to disappointment, which often festers into resentment. Even though you are the only one who has lived your life, you can stifle your own potential for expression, connection, meaning and joy when you allow other people’s limitations to be transferred to you, something that kids do exceptionally well because they care so much about what people think about them.
She doesn’t like me because I like books and say weird stuff sometimes? Okay, then, I’ll just keep my mouth shut and pretend I don’t even like books.
I’m not smart. School is hard. I’ll make a scene and get in trouble, so I don’t have to stay in this classroom (where nobody likes me anyway)
It’s all about me, me, me. And I’ll cry if I want to!
Did you know the happiest people are those who do the most for others? Booker T. Washington said that, but a lot of other people like Mother Teresa and Martin Luther King Jr. had similar views. The causes we champion play a big part in our happiness.
I agree with Haidt; I love the idea of connection. Connection is important to healthy relationships, not to mention the reproduction and long-term survivability of every species on the planet.
But if we just want our kids to be happy, we deprive them of the opportunity to experience the good things that come from disappointment: acceptance of the things we cannot change, a commitment to make life better for ourselves and other people, and the compassion that can only be derived from lived experience.
Weird and quirky kids who have unusual hobbies find themselves marginalized. Ironically, these kids grow up to be the most interesting adults! Consider Reese Witherspoon, that icon of fashion and hospitality. An overachiever to the nth degree, she is a self-described “nerd.” So is Natalie Portman. She skipped the premiere of her own movie (Star Wars, no less!) to study for high school finals. And Rashida Jones (of The Office and Parks and Recreation fame) told a reporter she would read books in bed with a flashlight until late into the night as a kid (Me too, Rashida! Me too!). Total nerdom.
Whether you’re starting a business, opening a restaurant, or launching a product, the one thing central to success is an original idea, which acts like a magnet, drawing us to what’s interesting and unique with the promise of something better.
Telling a twelve year old to be original is like telling a terrier not to pee on a fire hydrant. “I don’t wanna be original; I just want to be like everybody else!” she will cry. (She does want to be original, she just doesn’t know it yet. “Do you like me?” mentality is winning. In service to that small voice in her head, she will squelch creativity, she will fight originality, she will shush the voice that dares her to be different.)
I wish I could go back and tell my twelve year-old self that the things that made me feel different were the things that would ultimately lead me to my passion and purpose. I wish I could have told the twelve year-old me that twelve year-old opinions don’t have the weight I assigned to them at the time. I’ve been carrying them with me all these years, only to discover when I brought them out in the open, they vaporized right before my eyes. At twelve, I was unhappy. I felt like nobody liked me. I didn’t even like myself. I don’t want my kids to feel that way.
Happiness is not our goal; wholeness is.
Be honest with yourself about who you are.
Own what’s unique about you; champion what’s unique In other people.
Disappointment is not a catastrophe; it’s a catalyst for compassion.
If someone else says something unkind, give yourself (and them) grace for the moment. The motivation is almost always related to that “Do you like me?” question.
Make sure the voice inside your head is the one that says, “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.” Psalms 139:14
Want more good stuff?
And just because I couldn’t resist, I’m posting a link to this Sesame Street song from Bert and Ernie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wkivmh-24EY