The run of the cows of Saint-Sévère was one of the most entertaining stories of the year 2022. And I do not think it is exaggerating to say that it was also inspiring. Cows that take the key to the fields, that flee into the woods, that live like free thinkers, giving a damn about what is normally expected of them (staying in the pasture, grazing grass and giving milk ), of course it’s inspiring. If cows manage to free themselves from their roles and have a little fun, we should be able to do the same.
Like these rebellious cows, Pippi Longstocking or Wednesday Addams in the new Netflix series, I tend to believe that I manage most of the time to be myself without worrying about the judgment of others. But sometimes I obey standards and expectations without realizing it. A few years ago, I regularly frequented the bar Chez Baptiste with a friend. We drank pints of beer, like everyone around. Until the day when, during a random conversation, I confided that beer, in the end, I didn’t like that, well, well. It turns out that neither did the friend: we both preferred wine. We found ourselves a little nonos. That day, we changed our habits and I don’t think I’ve had a beer since.
More recently, I decided to come to terms with my aversion to dark chocolate. Yes, it is more refined and healthier than milk chocolate. But I don’t want to talk to him about the latest exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts, I don’t want him to tell me about his favorite philosophers, I just want to gulp him down to satisfy my sweet tooth. It’s not for nothing that dark chocolate is healthier than milk chocolate: it doesn’t make me fat because I only eat two bites of it and I stop because it grates the back of my throat.
I could also dwell at length on my hatred of rice cakes (salted squares of Rice Krispies? But why?) or ground cherries (put in brunches at restaurants to spoil our last bite because it’s always that bitter cherry you eat last), but I wouldn’t want to bore you with my little obsessions.
It may seem obvious to assume what we are, what we like or dislike, but if there are a ton of books devoted to the subject in the charts for years, like The subtle art of not giving a damnby Mark Manson, is that it’s less easy to do than it seems.
In my opinion, whether you are yourself or someone else, people are going to hate you the same. People hate. A lot. Some write in the media to complain about artists who go to galas too badly dressed for their taste (“It’s a lack of respect!”), of those who go dressed too chic (“It’s a lack of ‘humility!’), in short, life should be governed according to their tastes. It’s obviously impossible to please them, even if you try very hard, because all these people are different and therefore their tastes are different. Admit that this logic is implacable: you can’t please people, so don’t worry about their opinion. Isn’t that quite simple?
Good.
The thing is that it can get out of hand quickly, don’t give a damn about people’s opinions. You start by dressing as you want, without worrying about what the people who cross your path will think, and then one day you show up at the grocery store with worn pajama bottoms torn at the buttocks, a sweater where is written “Fuck off” at the Sharpie, the vaper in the corner of your mouth and you taste the fruits before buying them, spitting out the ones you don’t like.
However, there is a way to make fun of people’s judgment without making fun of people. The nuance is important.
You drive carefully, respecting the speed limits, listening to your favorite artists, singing with them, and you watch the speeders pass you left and right, shouting insults at you: you don’t care about the judgment of others. You drive past everyone left and right, yelling insults: you don’t care about others. (And maybe a bit of your own life, too.)
I think there is a good balance to be found there. It won’t stop people from hating us, of course, but it allows you to sleep with a clear conscience. It would be nice to do everything to please others, there will always be some to hate us. So might as well be yourself, imperfect as we are.