A friend of mine recently told me about her decision to start eating fish and eggs again, after many years of strict veganism. She realized she felt better when adding those two things back into her diet, and this has, by all indications, been a good health decision.
Her main concern when deciding whether to make this change wasn’t about the health implications, though; it was social. Veganism had become such a core facet of her self and public image that it felt uncomfortable to deviate from that default, despite feeling that it was the right health choice for her.
I’ve had similar image-related concerns over the years, though not in regards to my diet.
When I decided to upend my life in Los Angeles, get rid of everything I owned that didn’t fit in a carry-on bag, and become a wandering writer, that was a huge narrative violation for anyone who knew me at that point in my life. The ultra-ambitious entrepreneur guy is doing what? Scandal. There was pushback and well-intended criticism from all corners of my social circle.
I experienced the same about five years ago when I decided, in the midst of a global pandemic, that it might be a good time to try something I’d been thinking about for years: holding still.
After more than a decade on the road, I was curious what it would be like to have a consistent home base for a while, and that hit a few of my readers hard.
Some couldn’t fathom why I would stop doing something I loved so much in order to pursue something they considered horribly mundane. I received a double-handful of emails (some a bit aggressive, some just confused) telling me so, most of the messages saying, in essence, get back in your box and stop acting like something you’re not.
This decision I’d made flew in the face of everything they knew about me, and when people deviate from the mental models we have of them, that can be uncomfortable. When these models are violated, we have to build new, more complex models to replace them. And our brains rebel against anything that requires we do additional work, that’s just their nature.
I love trying out different lifestyles, though, and to me, in my mind, that’s more fundamental that any single season of life. I think the same is true with my friend, who’s eating habits are defined in part by their moral implications, but higher up the chain, they’re also part of a larger desire to remain healthy and strong.
The solution to this kind of interpersonal dissonance, as with so many things, is clearer communication. But there’s only so much we’re willing to learn about each of the many people we know and are parasocially aware of. And there’s only so much time in the day, so there’s a limit to what can realistically be conveyed, ingested, and worked into these mental models.
I’ve personally decided, long ago, to just get used to being misunderstood at least part of the time and by a lot of people. And while that doesn’t completely salve the unfair feeling of being misread and judged (based on that misreading), it does make it easier to face those moments when I’m ready for a pivot or new season of life, but some of the people in my orbit (close in or far off) are not.
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