I just read that. Some long-haired guy on Instagram who is obviously an expert on life said it. So it must be true.

But is it?

I mean, first off, how do you get to a place where you honestly don’t care if anyone likes you?

1. You figure out how to like yourself. You wade through all the shit you have caused in your life and the mistakes you have made and the hearts you have broken and the problems you have caused and … you make amends. With yourself. Of course you can also attempt to make amends with those you may have hurt but if that isn’t possible, you make amends with yourself. You take ownership, acknowledge accountability and then … forgive yourself. And mean it! It is absolutely imperative that you mean it.
2. You dig deep into why people liking you is important? Are you a people-pleaser? A social- media-validation-seeker?  An individual with low self-esteem? Someone so deeply traumatized by a past event that skating through life drama-free is now your primary goal? There are so many levels of desperation and man, it can be an emotionally draining slog trying to sort out who you really are … and why. A worthwhile slog though, I reckon. Because once you determine who you are and why, you can decide who you’re going to be (and when). And what glorious freedom is that? Arriving at a place where YOU are in charge. Of you. Sounds simple and yet it is probably the most difficult destination to dispatch.
3. You determine whose opinion really matters. I mean REALLY matters. And when you make that determination you will most likely conclude that the number is quite small. And the elite few who achieve this hallowed position of consequence often have their own unique reasons for judging you. Reasons that have everything to do with them and nothing to do with you.

Case in point (I’ll work backwards on the above: When I was 18 and entering my first year of university, my parents and sister jetted off to Germany for an exchange year (my dad was a prof, my sister a student of languages). I stayed home to study drama (in English, thank you very much). And to be near my boyfriend who also had recently adopted the mantle of “Vickie’s first lover.” Prior to their departure, my mother discovered (quite by accident) that I had started taking the pill. One might think she would have been delighted by my responsible attitude but no … she was pissed! She barely spoke a word to me in our final weeks of cohabitation. She did not like me one bit!

She got over it. Eventually. And on that occasion, I did not allow her disdain to colour my opinion of myself. I knew who I was and what I was doing.

Fast forward 25 years and I left my husband for the first of many times (this particular outing lasted a whole night). My mother called the hotel where I was in sanctuary and told me that she loved me but didn’t like me very much. Yup. She did it again.

But this time it damn near killed me.

I was already a fragile mess and to have my own mother once again pass judgment on my “likability” was just too much. In hindsight she might have said, “I don’t like your choices” or “I don’t like your actions” but she said, “I don’t like YOU.”

I got over it. And I still ended up leaving my husband (eventually). Because my mother’s ability to like ME did not in any way factor into my desire (or ability) to stay married. She was running her own program based on her own codes and inclinations and then anointing (or not) her “likes” accordingly. Fair enough. Not necessarily loving or astute but understandable.

See how it works? We pick and choose the ‘dislikes’ that might affect us. In the short term and in the long term. I am absolutely certain my mother liked me LOTS on the day she died.

So to #2 – Becoming free of the need for validation, especially in this day and age, is challenging indeed. I mean c’mon – there are women on Instagram with millions of followers for no other reason than they look good in a bikini. As John Mayer once said, “Congratulations on your face!”

For us mere mortals, the lure of endorsement and recognition can become addictive and as elusive as a pink unicorn. But we seek anyway. Constantly. Why? What do we hope to gain from this desperate (and very public) quest to be liked?

I have no idea. All I see is further addiction. So if you feel like you might be a tad compulsive, maybe rethink your motives. Because if your intent is to be FREE, an addiction of any sort will never get you there. Quite the opposite.

So then there’s #1 – figuring out how to like yourself. For some, this can be the most ambitious enterprise of a lifetime.  It is so much easier to let other people determine your attractiveness. Your likeability-quotient. Your appeal. God knows the entire damn world will weigh in at some time or another. All you have to do is listen and absorb. And believe.

Fuck that.

Once you take ownership of who you are based on accountability for what you’ve done and belief in what you still will do … that is when you will truly discover YOU. It’s funny how it goes – the more work you do, the more in touch with yourself you become and the more you like what you see. In the mirror. And with that confidence comes an inflexible expectation that you are worthy. Period.

So then what? What do you do when someone … anyone … does or says something … anything … to make you feel less than worthy. How do you combat that feeling of inadequacy that creeps in? That wash of self-blame that blankets us when we feel un-liked? Undeserving? Un-everything?

You remind yourself of who you are. The good you’ve done. The love you’ve offered and the love you’ve shared. The generosity you have displayed and the honesty with which you have approached every relationship. You ever-so-delicately remove any and all power from the person who has “hurt” you (with them being none the wiser) and place it back where it belongs. IN you. WITH you. The power IS you.

The ability to be disliked makes it sound like a talent you can develop or a skill you can master. It isn’t either of those. It goes more to the ability to like yourself. To like yourself so profoundly, honestly and truly that no one can rattle your backbone. Your resolve is steadfast. Your belief in yourself is unassailable. The only arrows that can hurt you are the ones in your own quiver. Sure, anybody can take a shot and they might even hit you. But the wound won’t penetrate. Because you know exactly who you are.

And that is freedom. True freedom.

Whether you like it or not.