Sixth Former Amber Liao, from Xi'an, China, addressed the School community at Church Assembly on Thursday, April 27, 2017. Amber's talk is titled, "You Don't Have to Be Liked."
"Why doesn't she like me?" "What did he say about me? OMG, I'm freaking out right now. Tell me his exact words."... In a small community such as the Abbey, we inevitably worry about how we are perceived and whether we're popular. Whispers, glances, and rumors affect our every thought and action. We all want to be liked.
Classmates judge us, but what about family? If I asked you to name the one person who loves you unconditionally, you'd probably say . . . grandma. Cookies, candy, and cash; doting and spoiling. That's grandma's job. Most grandmas, I should say. My experience? Well, there was disappointment in my grandmother's dimming eyes from the moment her grand-daughter was born. I was not her favorite, to say the least.
My existence was welcomed by the whole family, except for my father's mother, and that one exception haunted me for my entire childhood. I could be pathetic and tell you about a 4-year-old sprinting to the sound of grandmother's approaching footsteps and the crinkle of plastic gift bags on New Year's Eve, only to hear her announce that the new collection of crayons was—for her grandson. Wool gloves shaped like Stitch's ears—for her grandson. A mini bowling set filled with cool Pokémon stickers—for her grandson. I'm not bitter. To be fair, she did once throw me a merry-go-round toy from a McDonald's Happy Meal, the Happy Meal which she bought—for her grandson.
Or I could whine and tell you that whenever my parents left us alone to "bond," she would put me in the bedroom with a pencil and some paper to scribble on, then sit alone on the living room couch sewing, or flipping through papers from a week ago (she never threw anything out). Bonding, or house arrest? Forced to spend one night with her, a calm child such as myself was driven to hysterics. Past midnight, I yanked her by her shirttail down five flights of the apartment building's stairs, out onto the street, screaming and crying, searching for a phone booth to call someone to rescue me—she'd claimed her landline was broken.
I wanted to go home, and wherever she was did not feel like home to me.
I could have a pity party and ask: What did I do wrong? Had I offended her in any way? It took me a while to accept the fact that she was simply, from the very beginning, dissatisfied with who and what I was: a girl. As a woman herself, she abhorred the expected role for Chinese women in her era. Consequently, she decided that it was a waste of time to spend energy or emotion on a temporary family member, a mere girl who would one day be married off and carry someone else's last name, just like what happened to her.
Now, I do not plan to teach you all a lesson about unconditional love—like how we eventually made up and how she admitted that somewhere deep inside she truly adored me. No. Reality isn't always pretty. Grandma and I are related by blood, but too bad I feel that we are only related by blood. I've never even had the chance to show her that I'm as good as any boy might be, since we have not spoken in years, in person or on the phone.
That's okay. I no longer get upset when her name comes up. I am fortunate enough to have so many others who love me. My parents work hard so I can get this education; my mother's parents are paragons of kindness; my aunts spoil me with hugs every chance they get; friends rely on me. I complain about not being able to focus on work because someone is always knocking on my door inn Manor House, but deep inside I love feeling needed.
Instead, I've got a something different to offer. At the Abbey, a lot of bad moves and regretted actions are the result of a desperate search for popularity. We all want to be liked, but face it: someone will always dislike you. So what? So what if the person who sits behind you in History called you "weird?" So what if your BFF dumped you for a cooler group? So what if my grandmother still ostracizes me? We just have to get a thicker skin and not be so sensitive. Shrug it off, appreciate the love we do get, and move on. Worked well for me. There are enough things to worry about without pursuing the exhausting, onerous, and impossible goal of universal approval.
So, don't feel bad about things that are not your fault. Don't fight a losing battle. Rise above it, and stick with the people who are worth it.
Thank you.