Nobody Thinks About You as Much as You Do

MJ Wynn
Jun 10
3 min read

It’s just past midnight and my brain is being that bitch again—doing reruns of an awkward moment from this morning like it's prime-time TV. You know when you try to be effortlessly charming with your coffee order but end up sounding like you're speaking your third language? Yeah. That was me. I tripped over every word like the espresso machine personally offended me, then basically bolted out the door like I’d just bombed a live taping of “Cringe: The Reality Series.”

But now I'm here, lying in bed while the galaxy projector paints little blobs on my ceiling, and I had this very soft, very real thought: literally no one at that coffee shop is thinking about me right now. Not the barista. Not the guy behind me who was definitely doom-scrolling. Not even me, if I really check in for a second.

💭 The Imaginary Stage We Think We're On

There’s this psych concept I always forget the name of until I need it—it’s called the spotlight effect. Basically, it means we all walk around thinking we’re the main character in everyone else's movie. And plot twist: we’re not. We’re all just side characters who briefly pass through each other’s field of vision, usually without even registering.

Like be honest, when’s the last time you lost sleep replaying someone else’s awkward slip-up? When your friend said “you too” to the Uber driver who told them to have a good night? Yeah, you forgot about that until right now. Meanwhile, I’ve got a full internal director’s cut of my worst moments running on a loop.

🚿 Shower Monologues & Zoom Giggles

Sometimes I catch myself in the middle of the day crafting the perfect response to a conversation that happened years ago. My shower could win an Oscar with the kind of speeches I deliver in there. But lately—maybe it’s age or just the exhaustion of being a human in late-stage capitalism—I’ve started to realize how much time I spend auditioning for a panel that doesn’t exist.

At 34, I’m still catching myself wondering if I came off “too much” on Instagram stories. Or if my laugh echoes weird on Discord. Like I’m too loud or too weird or too me. And honestly, I’m tired. Not the kind of tired a nap fixes—the kind that makes you want to give your inner critic a little coloring book and tell her to sit in the corner quietly.

💅 The Soft Freedom in Being Forgotten

Here’s the weird gift in all of this: if nobody’s thinking about me that deeply, then maybe I’m free. Like… actually free. Free to wear the obnoxiously loud jacket. Free to post the dance trend even if I look uncoordinated and unhinged. Free to start the thing without waiting for permission.

Because while I’m over here worrying about whether I sounded awkward during a casual conversation, everyone else is worrying about their own highlight reel of cringe. The people who really matter? The ones who love me at my worst and weirdest? They don’t care if I called my boss "sis” on accident or if I said “you too” to a waitress who told me to enjoy my meal. They just want me to be okay.

🌙 Try This Before You Spiral Again

Next time your brain starts cueing up The Greatest Hits of Embarrassing Shit You’ve Ever Done, play this game with me: try to name three awkward things that happened to someone else last week. Can’t? Exactly. That’s the magic. No one remembers. We’re all living in our own weird little mental echo chambers.

So here’s to being forgettable in the best way. To tripping over your coffee order. To calling your partner “bro” and not losing your relationship over it. To saying “you too” at wildly incorrect moments and surviving to tell the tale. 🌱