Two weeks ago, I stumbled across a wonderful writing piece titled “I Will Always Care Too Much” by Chelsea Fagan. (Go read it. Now.) It is, quite obviously, about feeling what is considered “too much” about people. There is a paragraph in it, however, that jumped out at me and latched onto my chest. I’ve been wearing it around ever since.
No one wants to be the person who is made fun of for caring too much about something, who treats in earnest a situation that everyone else considers absurd. Even in personal relationships, feeling too heavily invested while simultaneously understanding that the other person couldn’t be more detached is one of the most profound feelings of embarrassment we can experience. Because it isn’t simply the embarrassment of making a mistake or a poor choice, it’s a shame over the kind of human being you are and how you see the world around you. To be shamed for your sincerity is to be reminded that you are dependent on something which is not dependent on you — that you are, once again, vulnerable.
I’ve been mulling this over for the past two weeks, thinking about how much I relate to it. I like everything a lot. It’s become part of my personality (see my post about inspirational quotes for an idea to how that came about). The last sentence is the real kicker, though. To feel dependent on a song you can’t stop listening to, a line of poetry you can’t get out of your head or even, God forbid, another human — that’s a terrifying prospect.
Why, though? Why is it so scary for us? We are social herd animals who are practically programmed to want to be around others. Why is it so scary to need people?
Along the same vein, why do people make fun of others for feeling deeply? I’ve always been one to fall hard and fast. Feelings are almost always immediate for me, and tend to simmer for a while somewhere in my writing (which is probably not healthy. Note to self: work on that). But I can’t help how I am. I fall in love with boys who couldn’t care less about me and I cry over writing that is written by authors I will never be able to thank — that sort of thing. It’s a big part of me.
This post is just a bunch of unanswered questions. Does anyone have an opinion? Is anyone the opposite — the person who doesn’t feel enough?