Strangers stared at me in the face. They seemed like nice girls—girls who had fun roommates and a lot of friends. I knew none of them, and I barely knew the boy who had dragged me into the apartment to meet his roommate, who happened to be at the girls’ apartment. Yet, I had agreed to play a game called “Chameleon” with all of them.
In the game, one person secretly played the chameleon role and had to pretend they were just an ordinary player. The chameleon would lie and hope people believed them. If they blended in with those around them, they succeeded. So, as we played, the strangers stared at me and accused: “I think you’re the chameleon.”
Like all the other rounds, I told them the truth: it wasn’t me. They never believed that. But, the boy who brought me along? Oh, it was him of course. And no one ever guessed it. They liked him too much to believe he would be the chameleon.
At the time, I barely knew that boy. Now, he’s my husband.
Over our time together, I’ve watched this dynamic repeat itself with strangers and friends. Nearly every time we play a game similar to “Chameleon”, the players suspect me! Sure, it’s been me before, but most of the time I’m just another player. Yet, people have a hard time believing that. Comparatively, my husband rarely gets accused, and if someone does suspect him, they often quickly lose that suspicion.
Some might say my husband’s a trustworthy man. That’s true, but that’s not all. In large part, I believe this happens because he is also a likable person.
In my worst moments, I assume that because he’s so likable, I must be so unlikable. I’ll cry on his shoulder and wonder what quality made me this way. Eventually, the tears stop coming, and I realize I’m only having a hard time—that I’m not truly unlikable. I mean, these are just games, right?
Although, these moments, added with others outside of game nights, have led me to wonder: does it matter if I’m likable?
Yes. No. Well . . . I couldn’t tell. Of course, I wanted to be likable. Having lots of people like me did not seem horrible. Although, I had many lectures from my school years ingrained in my mind. Lectures that instructed one not to care about what others thought, to be themselves, to not conform to the expectations of peers and “follow the crowd.”
I remember talking to Joshua about this. He told me how he spent his whole life working at becoming likable. It took effort because he needed to learn how to adapt to others needs and how to assess various social situations. In the process, though, he never changed himself. He held the same standards and values, and he never pretended that he didn’t.
Somehow, he managed to become likable and to stay himself.
I thought about this concept multiple times, as if my mind was running laps on a track and trying to see new scenery at the same time. Finally, I stopped running.
A few ideas started to appear, I started to practice a few social manners, and I felt that I finally understood once I read Little Women.
In a way, Little Women discusses the importance of being likable, but it uses a different—a better—word: amiable. While being likable includes the necessity of another person choosing to like you, being amiable does not. Both mean that one is pleasant and friendly, but the amiable quality drops that extra social qualification. It might seem that they mean the same, but that’s not surprising. Since people tend to like those who are pleasant and friendly, both characteristics tend to have the same outcome.
This helped me to relinquish my worries. Did I still want to be likable? Sure. Did I need to be likable? No! If I only strived for that, I would be aiming for something I could not control and certainly could not ensure.
Simply, no one can make another person like them. I’m sure some people do their best to, and some might even have such a strong influence that they believe they have this control. But, when it comes down to it, we don’t and we shouldn’t try to change that because we simply can’t.
Instead, we can work on how we treat others.
I’ve found that trying to become amiable has been a much more worthy pursuit than trying to become likable. It removes stress that comes from lack of control, it helps me become more selfless as I focus on acting friendly toward others, and I’ve focused on this change all while staying true to the things I value. As a result, I’ve noticed that I have an easier time relating to others and even though I’m not trying to achieve this, it seems that people like me more than before.
So, don’t worry about becoming likable; that tends to lead to an overly self-focused lifestyle that aims to change what one can’t control. Can you see why the consequences might become negative?
Instead of trying to become likable, consider trying to increase your amiability. This leads to a more selfless lifestyle that aims to act kindly to others. Naturally, this consequently leads to more happiness as we learn how to interact in a friendly, sociable manner to one another.
For many, this whole concept might seem impossible. I’m sure some people who read this have social anxiety, or perhaps some feel this breaches their realm of comfort. Some might even try this and feel as though they failed! “It seemed the person did not like me, even after I acted so kindly!”
That’s okay. We all have different capabilities. Becoming more amiable does not mean becoming the most friendly, kind, outgoing, pleasant person in the world. Rather, it just means we put effort into smiling a second longer, waving hi when we want to look away, and continuing a conversation when we could let it falter. We may not always do these things consistently, but we can do them more. With a world where people try to do a little more of all of that, I think we’d all have brighter, better days.
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