wtf is she talking about?

i'm also trying to figure that out

it literally feels like David Lynch is in my head

“Do you mind if I interview you?”

Oh god. I thought to myself. The dread.

It was my 26th birthday. I was walking down the streets of SoHo, NY with my boyfriend when a street interviewer approached us. She told us she worked for Dose of Society, a digital media company that specializes in telling real human stories.

As she scrolled through their Instagram page to showcase examples of the content they post, I was scrolling through all of the excuses in my mind that could get me out of this situation.

One thing about me? I’m terrible on the spot. Or at least I convince myself that I am. I’m an observer. A processor. I feel like I have trouble forming coherent thoughts in the moment, so in fear of any stupidity showing, I tend to not say anything at all.

You know how after you have an argument with someone, you start to think of a million better things you could have said? That’s me but with almost every. single. conversation.

Why did I say that? Did that offend them? I should’ve said this instead. Do they think I’m dumb? I shouldn’t have said anything.

And the most horrific paranoia my insecurities breed: What if they’re thinking, WTF is she talking about?

That’s right, I said the name of my newsletter. Cue visual example of when a film says its title in the film:

Since the pandemic ended, the fear of being perceived has been a resurging conversation as we all were learning how to integrate back into social society. “Quickly being immersed in social settings again means reflecting on how others perceive us and the ways we might have changed or, in some cases, how we’ve stayed exactly the same,” said Nana Baah in a 2021 VICE article.

It felt like I was forced to hold a huge mirror up to my face and question everything I thought I knew about myself. My identity. My desires. My fears. As my beliefs started to shift, it was as if an imposter started to form in front of me. Have I been defrauding myself and everyone I know? That’s when it sets in–my fear of being perceived.

I believe there’s a spectrum when it comes to the fear of being perceived. For some, it may be feeling overly conscious about posting a photo on social media. For others, it can be a deeply-rooted anxiety that causes them to avoid social situations altogether to escape judgment. For me, it was all about the disconnect between who people thought I should be and who I truly believed myself to be.

I have always cared what people thought about me. Hell, I thrived off it. I’m the eldest daughter of immigrant parents who grew up performing and doing theatre. Of course, I crave the attention and praise.

But I don’t think I’ve ever been this self-aware to the point of crippling overanalysis until recent years. Many of the thoughts I had during the pandemic and the first couple of years navigating my post-college life centered around one major theme: Me vs. them.

The “them” I’m referring to are inclusive of my friends, my family, my partner, my professional peers, my professors, my colleagues, my spectators. Basically, anyone who has the ability to perceive me and form an opinion about me. And you’re probably thinking, That’s a big Goliath you’ve put yourself up against. What can I say? I’ve always been an overachiever.

It’s a tale as old as time. You’re 20-something and feeling the insurmountable task of bridging the gap between what others think of you and what you think of yourself. Most days, I am overwhelmed by the weight of all of these built-up notions of what people–or at least the notions I believe them to have–expect from me.

How could I not? I grew up with pretty little words in my ears. You’re so smart. You’re so talented. You’re going to be someone someday. Perfection became my vice. If I wanted to prove to everyone that I was exactly who they thought I was, I had to do the right thing, follow the right path, say the right words.

It’s exhausting trying to impress everyone when in reality, no one is punishing me except for myself. It’s like I’m Natalie Portman in “Black Swan” and *spoiler alert* I realize I’m the one who kept stabbing myself over and over and over again.

Growth isn’t achievable without embracing the mistakes and failures that come with it–and I can’t make those mistakes if I continue to reject the opportunities that allow me to. I want to put in the work to feel more confident in my choices, my words, and how I express myself. More than that, I want to care less about whether the way I express myself is meant to resonate with everyone.

So when my boyfriend encouraged me to say “Yes” to the street interviewer, I did. Although Dose of Society hasn’t posted my video–and I don’t know if they ever will–I’m proud that I took that chance to learn more about myself and took a small step toward overcoming my fear of being perceived.

A highly referenced 2013 New York Times article by Tim Kreider once said, “If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”

That’s what this newsletter is. My mortifying ordeal of being known. My attempt to reshape the negative belief that everyone I interact with is thinking, WTF is she talking about?, into something positive to look forward to.

But if you find yourself asking that question while reading my work, that’s okay too. I’m also trying to figure that out.