As a child, my parents raised me to behave myself everywhere I went. If my mother were in the room, one glance at her face, and I could decipher what she meant. Should you have a Nigerian mother, I'm certain you know what I mean. At home, they weren't overly strict with me, but they weren't overly indulgent either—a healthy mix of goody-goody (candy) and koboko (horse whip). Among my people, we have an adage that loosely translates to, “the teeth a dog uses to play with its child are also the ones it uses to discipline it.”
However, I wasn't a child that would turn your home upside down, but if you had kids my age, or flowers in your compound, I might break a few rules. Speaking about flowers, who else whooped up some great recipe mess with them? Oh-oh. Some of you probably preferred sand, sorry😂.
Growing up, I had many people who were very fond of me. I was adorable, and was referred to as “sharp” because I could talk your ear off while asking you a lot of questions. There's also the part about me always wanting to have my way or lead my peers. For example, if we weren't going to act a child's play according to my ‘script,’ we might as well cancel out the whole thing. Choleric, much?
Notably, in my mother's office, “Sweet” was my nickname (I'll save the backstory for another day). Perhaps I should have given this article the title, “What I was like as a child.” But I'm under authority, best to stick with what the Lord has placed on my heart.
(Quick break in transmission. Can you recall the name of this letter without peeking? If you forgot, you confirmed that the speculations are true. Repent, for writers often pour their souls into their art. Read mindfully, please and thank you).
So, walk with me?
As I was explaining earlier, my upbringing, receiving praise in school, and other experiences unintentionally led me to believe that everyone had to like me. I had a typical best-thing-since sliced-bread mindset. Tsk. I felt the need to always be the preferred one. The one in the good graces of others. If you were going to cite me as an example, it had better be good. Also, I always itched to know what people thought about me.
Of course, this self-absorptive lifestyle was more pronounced before being in a relationship with God. But even at that, I realise that I still like to be liked. You see, one feeling I find most delightful—like a soft, cosy blanket that wraps around my heart—is knowing that I'm an object of someone's fancy (I'm talking on pure platonic ground).
What exactly do I like about being liked?
I like to know that you can enjoy my company. Where in that moment, I'm not simply a matter–occupying space. But, I truly matter to you.
I like to know that I can pique your interest and intrigue you. Such as when you remember something I said or did, you'll light up just because.
I like to know that you can cherish me, not merely tolerate me.
I like to know that many of us can say the same thing, but mine would mean something significant (to you), even though my voice doesn't have to be the loudest.
I like to know that you don't have to agree with me, but don't act like I said nothing.
I like to know that you can perceive my flaws, yet can love me still.
I like to know that you love being here (on Quality time) not just because you think I might be bugging you with the link every time I make a post.
But life doesn't revolve around me (or you), does it?
What happens when the need to be liked becomes an all-consuming force? When we find ourselves succumbing to the bends and twists to fit into someone else's idea of likable? We seek to get into the headspace of others to figure out ourselves through their lenses. Conforming to their gaze, rather than the one who has called us His. There's a problem when we begin to sacrifice our own authenticity and individuality in the pursuit of approval. Even worse, when we write people off because we don't think they're a fan of us?
Selah.
I hope that it is in God–not in validation from others–that we live, move and have our being. If you share the same sentiment as I do about liking to be liked, here's a hard pill to swallow: If it's impossible for you to like (but love) everyone, why do you think everyone is obligated to like you? Or be your fan? Jesus Christ, who came to die for the sins of the whole world didn't win over the whole world. Some people chose (and still choose) not to be won over or amazed by the fact that they have a saviour. What's you and me compared to THAT?
Listen, it's okay to like to be liked. Yet it should never be at the expense of being ourselves in Christ. There's nothing wrong with seeking connection and a sense of belonging, but never at the cost of our identity.
Furthermore, I hope we seek out ways to notice, love, appreciate, honour, and cherish others. To genuinely interest ourselves with others—not in a busybody type of way, but in a bid to build meaningful relationship characterized by depth.
“I like to be liked.”
I desire that we see how that phrase should be more about being a people-person rather than a people-pleaser.
Beloved readers, thank you for unrelenting love and support. 💛
If this piece pulled your heartstrings or you found it helpful, please do well to share. Bless me with your wonderful thoughts as well.
Alsoooooo, in exactly two weeks from now, I'll be writing to you as THE birthday girl, by God's grace.
Yours in Quality time,
Adebola🦋.
I like to be liked but I’ve seen people ignore me, dismiss me or even seem uninterested. I learned the hard way that not everyone will like you. Your piece brought a period of my life to mind (maybe I’ll write about it someday)
I like being liked but some people won’t like me the way I want to be liked. Selah 😅
Thank you for sharing this. We should never sacrifice our authenticity for validation.
I also love this part, we should be “a people-person rather than a people-pleaser.”
Funny story. I recently borrowed a book from the library titled ‘The courage to be disliked’ all for me to see your post. The irony yea?😅 there must be a reason why I got the book in the first place and your post is so relatable. I don’t think anyone wants to be disliked. It feels horrible and life sucking. But I’m learning that the less I care about people’s opinions, the healthier I become spiritually, emotionally and physically. There’s just a new courage that’s birthed from not even caring anymore. It’s one of the reasons why I admire Jesus. He understood people’s ‘likeness’ could be fickle but God’s likeness was and is reliable.
Also as long as you’re alive, people will always have something to say about people, and there are just some people who will not like you no matter how much you try. So I’m learning to live with that and accept God’s validation and likeness of me❤️