To be Liked

All my life I’ve done everything I could do to make other people like me. According to Psychology, there are several things you can do to increase these chances. These few secrets worked alongside a small glass of liquid courage to build up my perfect facade. I’m sure you too, do these things, if not subconsciously. Everyone likes to be liked, it’s only human nature. The first step is to tell people what they want to hear, self-verification. People don’t like to hear critiques about themselves, they hear it enough in their own head, so the first step to being a perfect extrovert is to listen more than you talk. 

Another secret I’ve learned is that you have to start small. You can’t lump each tactic together hoping they’ll unravel neatly on a plate in front of the person you’re hoping to win over. You need to string them each neatly on a garland and wait to hang them up when the time is right, as to not be too flashy and scare them away. I’ve been working at a mundane office job, staring at a screen for 40 hours a week, simply putting in the hours, hopeful that I’ll be able to stack it neatly on top of my resume next spring when applying to school again. My coworkers are slightly older than me, but seeing how I worked with mostly college dropouts, I found them not as intimidating as they could’ve been. I thrive when I have a clear-cut goal set out in front of me, and the goal for this year was simple: get invited out to drinks with them. At first, I would watch, build up stories of them in my head, remember their favorite movies and hobbies, hoping there was an interest we shared, but there was never something I could bring into the conversation. We were vastly different. Out of touch, I persevered. I learned about their aspirations and goals, re-affirming with them, that they were able and will accomplish everything they set out to do. Of course I never actually believed this, how would some guy in statistics ever get his pilot’s license when he spends 50 hours a week in the office? But it’s what they wanted to hear, so I said it easily, without flinching. 

I like to live real, without my head in the clouds, and in this current world, you’re ostracized if you don’t participate in at least some form of post-secondary education, but between these walls, it’s an unreal paradox with the opposite. This threw me off at first, I often got laughed at for going to school, for succumbing to loans, and for living small. I didn’t let this bother me, but I sat across from a teen-dad. His kid, now five, was his entire life. He had worked at the company since his birth and had never had the opportunity to go to college. He was easy enough to get along with, but despite being the same age, he spoke condescendingly towards me, emphasizing often that I was out of touch with the real world, not knowing the true demands of hard work. This was the real prize, the only person at the company who vocally disapproved of things I said, his approval would be the ultimate win. After weeks of sitting across from him, hearing him interact with everyone else, I decided the best way to win his friendship would be to Pavlov him. I had already attempted mirroring him, copying his speech patterns, laughing when he did, but no luck. After weeks of listening, I was able to uncover his favorite candy, small sour lemon drops. I packed a bag full and each day and whenever he would talk about me, or even glance my way I offered him a small lemon drop, smiling as I did so. The fourth secret to making people like you is to touch them, quickly on the arm, or softly when you place a lemon drop candy in their hand, either way, science says they will become much more comfortable around you if you do so. He seemed to open up more after this, so I listened to him talk about his son and his girlfriend, about why he never went to college, and what he hoped to accomplish. People love to talk about themselves, since we are the only thing on our own minds. 

The final move was to confide in him. I usually never got this far, people always told me I’m bubbly and cheerful, and easy to be around, I usually didn’t need to work this hard before. So I confided in him, with what I thought he would like me to. I told him that I regretted going to college. Now, this wasn’t true, I had no regrets whatsoever about bettering myself and securing the future, but I knew it’s what he wanted to hear. This was his strongest stance that he took, often saying that people who go to college will never understand the value of true and pure work. After I revealed this untrue secret, he seemed to mull on it for a while, turning it over in his head until finally, later that day he offered for me to get drinks with him and our other coworkers. This was the final yard, the finish line in sight, and I was not going to slow down as I was closing in.

Every mistake I’ve ever made has been intentional. Tripping up the stairs, dropping the binder full of meeting notes, people like to know that you’re no better than them, so while entering the bar I slipped a little, stumbling through the door frame, laughing off my intentional mistake. I ordered virgin drinks, to keep the right mindset and narrowed in on the task at hand. I played off of everyone’s jokes and offered condolences when they seemed like they needed it. By the end of the night, it felt easier, like I had finally broken the seal. It felt good. I was told I was funny, easy to get along with, and quickly invited to drinks the following week. Everything had fallen into place.

At the end of the day, I go home alone, I take off my makeup and strip myself down in front of the mirror. I’ve always justified within myself that this need for people to like me is innate, that I can’t do anything about it, but in all honesty, I’ve concluded that life’s just a game, and if you don’t play along, you’re the one getting played.