“Treat Others How You Want to be Treated” is a Load of Crap

Kiera, 12, super shy is about to be approached by Jake, 39, her mom’s extra extroverted new boyfriend. Jake likes loud voices. Emphatic gestures. Self-deprecation and impressions of politicians. Kiera does not. Not at all. Not in any way. She’s 12.

So what’s Jake meant to do?

“Treat others how you want to be treated,” they say.

Oh okay, so he’s supposed to sidle up to her, looming overhead, and in his very best Trump accent start talking, arms flailing, voice booming, with poor 12-year-old Kiera trembling in her daisy studded converse?

Uh?

We all want to be treated with kindness

Whether you want to be perceived as an empress, an extraterrestrial, an ethereal entity so otherworldly that people bow and quiver in your presence all at once, or not — that’s great. You do you, because nobody else can. And not everybody else will want to. More often than not, most people you encounter simply want to be smiled at, thanked for their time, shown a little kindness.

Most people — dare I say, all people — simply want to be loved.

They call it “The Golden Rule” — treating others how you’d want to be treated in return. But this doesn’t mean your tangible mannerisms, your body language and expression. This means your morals. Value. Principles. This means reflecting the very colours of your soul onto everybody you encounter.

You don’t have to love them loudly. Strangers you met seven minutes prior aren’t going to need a declaration of eternal friendship in the form of a cute rose gold, heart shaped locket from Etsy. You don’t have to invite your dentist to your stag do. Blood promises are so 1876. Just show them a little respect. Express your gratitude as and when you feel it. Say the nice thoughts that spring to mind. Outwardly showcase that you care. Try to understand them a little.

“Not feeling that others really know us can leave us feeling hopelessly estranged from the rest of humanity. It may well be that feeling understood is a prerequisite for our other desires to be satisfyingly fulfilled.” — Leon F Seltzer Ph.D, Psychology Today.

Sometimes all we ever want is to be heard. We don’t need to shower one another in confetti. We don’t need a boombox and a several storey building to showcase our admiration. We just need an open ear, an open mind, and a closed mouth. Sometimes we just need to shut up and listen.

That’s all it takes.

There’s no explicit, dosage-requirement, portion-controlled formula that you must serve to each and every person you meet. You don’t have to curtsy or applaud or sign over your soul to those you admire. Not everybody is as exuberant as you. Not everybody wants to chat about black-holes. Not everybody can craft personalised clay teapots in the shape of your favourite safari animals to gift you as a Christmas present, like you can. Don’t expect everybody to be like you, to treat you like you treat them. Don’t even expect them to be kind, because not everybody will be. Have no expectations and instead, have one goal:

Be kind to them. Show them love. That’s your only job. That’s it. That’s all.

“Researchers find that people who experience higher ‘felt love’ — brief experiences of love and connection in everyday life — also have significantly higher levels of psychological well-being, which includes feelings of purpose and optimism, compared to those who had lower felt love scores.” — Penn State, Science Daily.

Love and a survival mechanism. Kindness is a life-source. The sun fuses hydrogen into helium in order to generate power. Living beings breathe in oxygen and breathe out carbon dioxide to generate power. And us people, with conscious minds and pulsating souls, we need to convert darkness into kindness — that’s how we generate power.

That’s it. That’s all.

Be gentle, be kind — that’s all you need to keep in mind

Jake crouches down to Kiera’s height, a gentle smile upon his face. And then, in a soft voice, he says, “Hey Kiera. I love those converse of yours.” That’s it. That’s all. Nothing extra. Nothing more.

Three months later, Jake has a tiny daisy tattooed onto the back of his calf.

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Oh hey, whilst you’re here: why not put the “em” into your “emails” and lob your name onto my mailing list for weekly em-bellishments on my rose-tinted, crumb-coated lens of life. It’s the equivalent of the reduced section in the supermarket (low value Weird Crap™ that you didn’t know you needed).