There is a certain comfort you find in yourself when you stop obsessing over how you are being perceived.
As someone who performs autopsies on nearly every conversation I’ve ever had, I know how exhausting that obsession can be. Replaying tone. Replaying facial expressions. Replaying that one sentence that might have landed wrong.
Overthinking becomes a hobby. Self-surveillance becomes second nature.
And in the digital age, that fear makes sense. It takes two seconds to record someone “embarrassing” themselves for trying — or worse, for not being perfect the first time they attempt something.
So we adapt.
We pretend not to care. We stand slightly off to the side at parties. We speak just enough in class to stay competent but not enough to risk being wrong. Nonchalance becomes a personality trait.
Being nonchalant and mysterious in real life is so boring. Â
It’s safe. It’s small. Most importantly, it’s protective.
The fear of being cringe is really just the fear of being seen trying. Trying a new hobby. Trying to speak up. Trying is dangerous because it exposes effort, and effort invites judgment.
As a university student, you are constantly performing. Classes, internships, extracurriculars, research, a job and sometimes even a social life. Everything feels like a résumé line. Everything feels like it needs to be optimized.
Soon enough, perfection becomes the goal.
The perfect GPA.
The perfect body.
The perfect relationship.
The perfect online presence.
But here’s the problem: most of us are chasing external perfection.
External perfection depends on applause. On validation. On someone else nodding in approval. It is fragile because it is outsourced.
Internal perfection is different.
Internal perfection asks:
Did I try?
Did I show up fully?
Did I care?
It shifts the focus from outcome to effort.
This is where subjective perfectionism comes in. You don’t lower your standards. You redefine them. The standard is no longer “Did I win?” It becomes “Did I give my full attention to the process?”
When figure skater Alysa Liu won gold at the Olympic Winter Games, much of the conversation online wasn’t just about the medal. It was about how relaxed she looked. How joyful. How detached from the pressure. She later spoke about skating for herself, about letting go of the outcome and focusing on the performance.
That shift is powerful.
When you detach from the result, you paradoxically perform better. Not because you stop caring but because you start caring about the right thing.
Perfectionism and nonchalance are two sides of the same coin. They both try to shield you from judgment.
If you never try too hard, you can’t fail too hard. If you only try when you’re certain you’ll succeed, you protect your ego. But that isn’t confidence. It’s control disguised as safety.
Failure is inevitable. That’s not motivational; it’s factual. You will be awkward. You will misread situations. You will say the wrong thing in front of the wrong person.
Then you will survive.
The need to be perfect will not disappear. The desire to be impressive will not evaporate. The only sustainable solution is to internalize the standard.
Make perfection subjective.
Care deeply — but about your effort, not the applause.
Because the people who judge you for trying are rarely building anything themselves.
There is freedom in redirecting your focus from “How am I being perceived?” to “Am I participating?”
Trying will not guarantee success. But not trying guarantees stagnation.
Be the person who cares. Publicly. Embarrassingly. Fully.