David McElroy

My secret shame is that I need your attention.

I don’t like admitting that, but I can’t help myself. It’s not just an egotistical desire. It’s a craving — for attention, approval and love. I don’t like feeling this way. I’ve beaten myself up about it for years and tried to shame myself into changing, but I’m not sure I can. I’m still struggling to figure this out.

My ex-wife had an insightful observation years ago. As we talked one time about what I should do with my future, she said that whatever I did, it had to be something with an “applause factor.” She pointed out that I was driven by the applause I get — metaphorically speaking — from my work.

Her insight was that I was not going to be happy unless I could do something that would be on public display — and that people could give me approval for.

I had never consciously been aware of this, but I knew she was right. I’m always watching my audience — consciously or unconsciously — out of the corner of my eye. Are they watching? Do they like me? Will they love me? I need applause just as much as I need food, water and air — but I don’t feel shame about needing food, water and air.

I feel a strong sense of shame about needing your attention. And now I don’t even know who my audience is anymore.

Keep Reading

“You can ignore reality, but you can’t ignore the consequences of ignoring reality.”
— Ayn Rand

I rolled my eyes when my friend told me what had happened in her family. About six months ago, a man related to her had moved in with his own brother’s family. It was just for a couple of weeks, until he got back his feet after a divorce. He had promised to find a job and quickly get a place of his own.

Six months later, the man still has no job. He watches television and plays video games while his brother and sister-in-law go to work. Has he applied for any jobs? Who knows? Nobody with sense believes a word he says. My friend said the brother who’s supporting the man called her this week.

“I don’t know why he’s not working,” the brother said. “He promised he would. I don’t know how to get him to leave.”

My friend and I both felt amazed. The deadbeat has always been a deadbeat. He’s never been responsible enough to keep a job. He married a woman who was willing to believe his lies about changing, but she quickly threw him out when he was lazy and then became verbally abusive, especially when he was drinking.

But for some reason, the deadbeat’s brother is surprised at all this. Why? It’s because we keep expecting people to be something different from what they’ve shown us they really are. As a society and as individuals, we all seem to be deeply in denial when it comes to objective reality.

Keep Reading