Table of contents
Optimistic -> jaded
Fresh out of college, I was optimistic about the world. I thought I was the center of attention. I expected things to go my way. I spent a lot of energy on how other people perceived me. That mix makes you stupid in a specific way. You assume the room is watching and that the watching will work in your favor. You spend your best thinking on an audience you invented.
Right after graduation, I came to Japan. I expected deep friendships with locals and a fulfilling social life. I brought that campus optimism with me and waited for it to pay out. It did not.
The old optimism assumed cooperation. If I cared enough, people would care back. I used to treat other people’s reactions as the main event. Every ordinary silence starts to feel personal. You burn hours decoding looks that were never aimed at you. You turn a blank face into a verdict. It is a stupid way to live, and I lived it.
A lot of life does not answer to your expectations. Some outcomes sit outside your hands. You can push and still watch the thing you wanted stay out of reach.
Nobody gives a shit about you
The ugly truth is that nobody cares about me. Everyone is too preoccupied with their own life. They have their own problems, their own people, their own next hour. I am not on that list.
I feel inclined to comply within my imagination to receive approval from strangers who do not give two shits about me. An invisible jury sits in my head, and I edit my thoughts to stay in good standing with people who will never notice. The approval is imaginary. The compliance still happens. That is a bad trade.
It is cold and painful. Cold because the math is obvious once you stop flattering yourself. Painful because I reach for the imaginary review even after recognizing it as imaginary. The habit outlives the belief.
People dress this up until it sounds noble. I am not doing that. A lot of self-consciousness looks like unpaid work. You keep performing. The loop only continues if you feed it.
If nobody is tracking my every move, I can stop living like they are. The fantasy that I am being carefully watched was flattering. It was also useless.
Jaded optimist
My perspective has changed. I am more jaded now. I know enough about the world to no longer be the optimistic, easygoing person I was in my twenties. I stopped waiting for the room to arrange itself around me.
I remain optimistic about what is within my control. I try to do my best with controllable things and influence surrounding things I do not fully control. Control is small. Influence is smaller than people pretend. Outside that, you are guessing. Effort goes where my hands can actually reach.
Consistency increases my luck surface area. If I give my best over a long stretch, someday I may land something big and have the effort rewarded. That is a bet with no guarantee. Waiting to be noticed because I exist is a worse bet. Nothing about showing up repeatedly promises a payout. It only makes one possible.
This is strategic pathfinding. I pick a direction I can actually walk, then I walk it long enough that the path starts to exist. If I keep delivering value, people may notice and reward it. The order matters. Value and delivery first. Recognition comes later, if it comes at all. I do not start from applause and work backward.
I keep my curiosity despite my biological age being twice the number of a teenager. That number used to feel like a verdict. Age is a clock. Curiosity is still mine to feed. It keeps me hopeful and positive in the long run. I want to see what happens if I keep going. The question is still open.
Jaded means I do not outsource my life to other people’s attention. Optimistic means I still believe controllable work can compound. The easygoing twenty-something wanted to be liked into a good life. I will take the colder read and keep moving anyway.