I had to deliver some semi-bad news today over the phone. The news wasn’t anything major or life altering in the long-run, but I knew the person wouldn’t like what I had to tell her. It made me a nervous wreck and the amount of dread I felt made me sick. But I knew I had to do it. Several episodes of Sex and the City later, I did.

I kind of lucked out because I reached this person’s voicemail, and I admit, I totally took the coward’s way out. I said what I had to say in a voicemail. After I hung up, I immediately got in the shower. I’m a 26-year-old woman who hides from the world in the shower. As long as Norman Bates doesn’t find me, it’s a pretty good hiding spot.

Why do I do this to myself? I have Sally Field syndrome. Truth be told, I just want you to like me. Really, really like me. And if you don’t like me, if you think horrible things about me, then ultimately, I’m afraid you might be right about me.

I don’t like disappointing people, but I also hate living with guilt and dread. I shouldn’t let other people dictate how I feel. So, I resolve to be stronger. I think this need for approval will lessen with age, unless I grow up to become a 76-year-old woman hiding in the shower. I resolve to stop caring so much about what other people think and stick up for myself to myself. It’s easier said than done, but I am my own worst enemy. If I give myself approval, then I won’t have to go looking for it from someone else.