There is a phrase people love to say these days: “I don’t care what people think.” It sounds confident, independent and like the declaration of someone completely comfortable in their own skin. But sometimes it is not confidence at all. Sometimes it is simply an excuse for refusing to examine yourself.

I was recently on a date with a young lady, and it was not our first date. Over time, I had noticed something that bothered me. When she eats, she rarely uses her napkin until the meal is basically over. Throughout dinner, she can have food around her mouth or on her face, and for me, it is extremely off putting.

I consider basic table manners a sign of consideration, especially when you are dining with another person. What surprised me even more is that this woman holds a very responsible position in corporate America and has an advanced degree. She is clearly intelligent, accomplished and capable, but education, professional success and good manners do not always go together.

After noticing this several times, I finally mentioned it to her. She was offended and told me that she does not care what people think. She eats the way she wants to eat and does what she wants to do. Interestingly, she also mentioned that someone in a previous relationship had made a similar observation about her eating habits.

My response was simple. If two people who cared about you noticed the same thing and cared enough to mention it, is it at least worth considering whether they might have a point? That suggestion quickly became a conversation about people trying to change her, so I changed the subject. But the exchange made me think about something much bigger than table manners and why constructive criticism is so often viewed as a personal attack.

There is absolutely something healthy about not allowing strangers, social media or public opinion to control your life. You cannot live constantly seeking approval from everyone around you. At the same time, not caring what anybody thinks can become a convenient defense mechanism against accountability.

Maybe nobody taught you certain social graces growing up. Maybe something you have done your entire life feels perfectly normal to you. Maybe criticism makes you uncomfortable, or saying “this is just who I am” feels safer than asking yourself whether there might be room for improvement. Whatever the reason, maturity requires the ability to examine our own behavior without automatically becoming defensive.

There is an important difference between someone trying to change who you are and someone pointing out behavior that may be working against you. If your partner tells you something, your friend notices the same thing and someone else independently mentions it, perhaps your first reaction should not be asking why everybody is trying to change you. Maybe you should consider whether there is actually something worth looking at.

Successful people understand the value of feedback. Corporate executives receive performance reviews, athletes have coaches and great entertainers have directors. Even some of the most accomplished people in the world surround themselves with people who will tell them when something is not working. There is no reason our personal lives should operate differently.

Caring what people think does not mean surrendering your identity or allowing other people to dictate how you live. It means understanding that how we present ourselves affects the people around us and that sometimes another person can see something about us that we cannot see ourselves.

There is strength in being able to consider criticism without immediately becoming offended. There is confidence in admitting that you might be able to do something better, and there is maturity in understanding that every criticism is not an insult.

Sometimes the people who care enough to tell you an uncomfortable truth are giving you something far more valuable than the people who simply sit quietly and allow you to believe you can do no wrong.

Beautiful Machine Magazine