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Is breaking the rules always bad?
Breaking the rules is not okay in the sense of law. In the sense of debilitating self-consciousness, though, it might be necessary. Let me explain with a café and a cute swimsuit.
I think we with social anxiety develop these subconscious rules to keep from offending others. For example, here’s some café rules I’ve developed over my 24 years:
Don’t change seats in the café. It looks suspicious.
Don’t use the bathroom at the wrong time. It looks unhealthy.
Don’t ever enter the café doors without buying something (even if you were already there and already did). It’s only respect.
The last of these rules is the most sensible. The other two are based on how I think others perceive me. Who cares if I must change seats; if I need an outlet, I need an outlet. Why am I concerned with what others think about my bathroom breaks…seriously? Yah, I go through this with myself—not normal, I know.
Only yesterday did I realize the time and energy wasted respecting the ridiculous, made-up rules. Today I decided to break those rules. It was hard, but doing it saved time and energy. I was so much more productive after just using the dang bathroom in the café like a normal person and moving on.
Spending so much time on ridiculous rules is what keeps a lot of us with social anxiety from living our dreams. We dare not do anything someone else might cringe at. We must be perfect. Well, let’s cancel that. If any rules hinder your productivity, check them and break them. You can’t afford not to.
So why did you see my Twix wrapper of a swimsuit linked with this chat? Because there are legal and self-conscious rules I’m about to go break while wearing it. I shouldn’t, but I’ve reached a breaking point.
My first week in France is so hot that I’m mesmerized daily by the rushing waters below the Pont de Pierre. Today a man of about 70 years asked me to promenade with him across it. I agreed; I wasn’t rushing. He asked where I was headed, hoping it was toward his house *eye roll*. “Je cherche des vêtements seconde main. J’aimerais me reposer dans la Loire,” I replied. I sought to buy a new swimsuit from a local thrift shop so I could walk past all my anxieties and finally into the cold, sparkling river.
Gently wrapping his arm around my waist, the elder man led me toward the edge of the bridge as if I was a child misbehaved, destined for a corner. “Vous savez,” he said, pointing down at the sign across from bathers on the riverbank, “C’est interdit.” Swimming in the river isn’t allowed. I sighed. I didn’t know that. I was sweating, dehydrated, and jealous of the people’s undoubtably cool time in France’s full summer. But since I became fed up with those feelings before I knew the river's rule, I’ll likely ignore my mind and the man’s warnings next week when it’s 90 degrees. I’ll walk right pass that interdit sign and into the river’s embrace. I’m going to break a local ordinance because my mental ones have deprived me of water for far too long. Wearing a wave on my right ring finger just isn’t enough anymore.
This is quite dramatic, I know. But it’s why I think it’s important to reconcile those subconscious rules before the breaking point is reached. Living that way is unsustainable. So, unless I find a local pool or some lake just as close as the river, I’m going to break a rule, risk getting in trouble, and face fears that have held me back—just for a few moments.
#vietavie #achetesmachette #skizoprenneur https://www.instagram.com/p/CSwkeP5Icj_/?utm_medium=tumblr
#vietavie #skizoprenneur #achetesmachette https://www.instagram.com/p/CRpKDNXLIq8/?utm_medium=tumblr
#skizoprenneur #vietavie #ceucinestpasunemoule (à Moliets-et-Maa) https://www.instagram.com/p/CRcVjmjrMA_/?utm_medium=tumblr
#vietavie #skizoprenneur https://www.instagram.com/p/CQs4it2LHzm/?utm_medium=tumblr
#vietavie #achetesmachette (à Vannes, France) https://www.instagram.com/p/CP3Fp72nUJs/?utm_medium=tumblr