As I buttered my bread this morning, I thought of all the people who would have judge me for using a full fat butter spread, instead of a tasteless gooey looking zero fat margarine. I quickly put down the second piece of bread I picked up earlier fearing an familiar judgmental voice in my head.
I got thinking about the way most of our actions are a product of some form of guilt induced by the outside world? Who is making us doubt our sense of decision making? Why is everything we do either ‘out of fashion’ or ‘just not right’, while what’s out there is just about always right?
Why is the world taking pleasure in guilt tripping us?
How often do you get to your wardrobe and spend a massive amount of time picking out clothes for that day? All the time wondering how a certain somebody would react to your clothes today? This is too white, thats too lavender. This material is too tacky and who wears plaids anymore. Boot cuts are so not in right now. And although I can’t for heaven sake fit in these skinny jeans, I have to pretend like I can breathe in it.
Do I wear my hair up or let them down? Does this car go with my personality? Do I walk right? Do I eat right? Can I do anything right anymore?
These tiny voices at the back of your mind, repeatedly suggesting, you are not doing it right. You’ve never gotten anything right. In fact your whole life is a mistake and only ‘they’ know how to rectify it.
What’s more is that these directive messages are not coming just from advertising anymore. Basically, it’s not these fancy commercials on television that make you throw up after every meal to make you look like a pale skeleton. But, it’s who they influence. It’s whose mind they capture and make them believe that it’s actually a consequence of their thinking. And that conforming to it would some how magically make your life wonderful.
These subtle armies of absolutely judgmental people marching towards us, making us doubt our most insignificant decisions. Walking down on a crowded street on a workday , have you noticed the fancy coffee flasks people carry around? Simple flasks are just not good anymore. It doesn’t taste like coffee, unless you’ve spend 20 bucks on a designer Starbucks coffee mug.
As in intern at a publication in New York city, I would often eat my lunch at my desk. Just so it happens, news organizations are filled with stone hearted cold people, who’d go out of their way to make you feel like pure unadulterated crap. So i’d keep to myself and eat my lunch, while I prepared for my interviews. Over a span of three months that I spent at this organization, I went from eating deliciously cheesy pasta to horrible and utterly tasteless greens. Moreover, not only was I eating salads for lunch, I was also drinking green tea.
One day my boss walked to my desk, looked at the utterly disgusting salad I was eating and casually said, “make sure it’s organic”.
Like he hadn’t done enough damage already. He’d haunted me earlier for eating wholesome meals for lunch on account of it being too cheesy and full of carbohydrates. He’d commented on the way I didn’t perform as well as I did before lunch because of the heavy meals I was having. To make matters worst, he wanted me to spend four extra dollars (on an interns salary, you can barely eat one meal a day) to eat organic leaves instead of the pesticide laden ones I was forcing down my throat now.
It’s practically the same case everywhere (expect I believe in Tech offices, where nobody really cares about what you wear or eat), at the gym, the regular black mats are just not good enough. You’ve got to go to Target and get an extra comfortable yet firm mat for your Yoga or Pilates classes. God forbid, if you’re ever caught drinking water from a fountain. Whatever happened to ordering a transparent water bottle from amazon. And don’t just order an ordinary one. Get the one with a small tube within the bottle where you can pour freshly squeezed berry juice to get those extra nutrients while you exercise.
How about those cushions on your couch. Seriously who needs six of them? And that sleep number bed you got yourself? What about that tablet you bought? Do you really need one, considering you barely read?
That’s the thing about guilt. It gets you. No matter where you are. It’ll catch up with you.