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1. YOUTUBE OVERCOMING PATHOLOGICAL FEAR OF DISAPPROVAL CRACKED
2. YOUTUBE OVERCOMING PATHOLOGICAL FEAR OF DISAPPROVAL CRACK

And forget for a minute the perhaps obvious alternative-that if she did look different, it may have actually been compassion. Never mind that I couldn’t be certain that she did, in fact, look any different than usual.

YOUTUBE OVERCOMING PATHOLOGICAL FEAR OF DISAPPROVAL CRACK

She hated me, I concluded, because she gave me “a look.” Crack + look = repulsion and revulsion, at least to my twelve-year-old mind.

Right then-that’s the moment when I decided that a woman named Sandy, soon to be cast as Miss Hannigan, hated me.

YOUTUBE OVERCOMING PATHOLOGICAL FEAR OF DISAPPROVAL CRACKED

It felt all but certain in the next instant, when I attempted a belting, vibrato-like note and instead cracked loudly and obviously. I was sure that everyone would laugh at me behind my back because I plain and simply wasn’t good enough. That’s not what I felt was happening right then. I desperately wanted them to like me, to cheer for me, to believe in me and want me there. And a part of me craved that, needed that. It was just sheer terror.Įveryone was watching me-which people do when you’re on stage. Within five seconds of starting my song, I felt a quiver in my voice that seemed like it might have been a ripple effect of the trembling in my knees. I dreaded following her, both because I knew she was superior in every way possible and I hated being critiqued. I believed everyone was constantly judging me, and I was terrified of those thoughts I couldn’t hear.īy the time Tara belted out “You’re only a day away,” I had nearly collapsed into a hysterical ball of panic within a corner of my mind. I may have seemed like a quiet, shrinking violet type, but you’d likely have concluded otherwise if you heard the boisterous noise in my head. It was larger than life, like her-and decidedly unlike me. With a bold, Ethel Merman-like voice and a petite, 5’1” frame, you might have expected to see a hefty female ventriloquist offstage, throwing her voice while Tara lip-synced.īut that was, in fact, her voice. My older sister, Tara-thinner, more popular, and, by my estimation, more talented-sang before me, and seemed to knock it out of the park. I remember auditioning for a community theater production of Annie when I was twelve.

And not just like me, but agree with and sanction my every choice through obvious signs of validation. In the case of my lifelong need for approval, I have found this to be true.įor as long as I can remember, I have wanted, needed everyone to like me. I remember reading somewhere that the best way to face a fear is through repeated exposure. “ Lean too much on the approval of people, and it becomes a bed of thorns.