The Spotlight Effect

On Wednesdays I reflect about something I've learned and laugh at how much of a dummy I used to be.

I used to think everybody noticed every little thing I did. I also used to think that it mattered. In high school, by senior year, I had finally pared down my close friend group to about six people who I really cared about. My small group of friends happened to be made up of obnoxious overachievers who were always tutoring, practicing instruments, or mentoring freshmen. So sometimes I actually ate lunch in the cafeteria all by myself. At the time, I thought everybody noticed and everybody was actually taking time to make thoughts and judgments about me and that those judgement actually determined something about who I was. I was just a dummy.

For my Fine Art credit during undergrad, I took a Creative Writing Class because I thought it would be easy. I signed up for the course section being taught by the young, hippie-like poet. I pulled the whole "math major totally out of my comfort zone" card several times, and my peers were very compassionate when reviewing my pieces, so it wasn't too bad. 

The only thing I actually learned from that course was from a tangent my professor got on one day. He mentioned that he had gone to see a recent movie by himself, and the whole class was like, "WHUT?! By yo-seff??" And he started laughing hysterically at us and ranting about our overwhelming self-consciousness. He challenged us to go to a movie by ourselves and go to a restaurant by ourselves. We were obviously shocked and horrified at the idea and through his laughter he explained the spotlight effect: "You guys, like, nobody cares. People won't think twice about seeing you all alone. You're not really that important to strangers. You're just really not that important at all."

That semester I went alone to a show at Eddie's Attic. I can't even remember who I went to listen to, but it was a packed house and I had to sit in the risers. The waitress came to take my order, and then pointed to the people seated above me, "Are you with them?" And I, embarrassed, said no. And the waitress walked away and literally didn't care that I was alone. She literally didn't care at all.