As a writer, one of the first things I was taught was to know my audience. As an English teacher, it’s one of the main lessons I teach my students.
Knowing your audience is so important because it allows you to structure your writing in a way that helps them understand what you are trying to say. You might think that the entire world is going to be interested in your story or essay (or whatever you’re writing), but they aren’t.
Trying to get the attention of people who don’t want to read your writing is a waste of time and resources. Instead, you need to focus on those individuals who think the same way you do and are interested in what you have to say.
Recently, I came to the revelation that knowing your audience doesn’t only apply to writing. It applies to other aspects of life as well. Particularly when it comes to emotions and hard times.
The past few years have been incredibly trying for me. My life has been turned upside down in many ways, and I’ve spent a lot of time reaching out to friends and family that I thought would help me through.
Instead, I was met with more heartache, frustration, and disappointment. I did what I could to make them understand what I was experiencing. I sent links to articles, I found memes that expressed my feelings in ways that I couldn’t, I tried to explain things as best I could.
It didn’t help.
It made my feelings of grief and loss that much deeper.
I didn’t know my audience.
I was trying to get support and empathy from people who were unable to provide it the way I needed.
While on my soul-searching journey, it has become apparent that I can’t expect others to be there for me the way I need them to. Even if I tell them exactly what I need and give them every resource available to understand me, they have to make the decision to use the information. I can’t force them. I have no control over their actions.
Their inability to support me isn’t about me. In many cases, it may be a sign of their own neglected and unhealed trauma. Maybe they don’t have the capacity for sympathy and empathy. Maybe they just don’t care.
No matter what the reason, I have to be there for myself.
This doesn’t make my friends and family bad people. It just means I have to change my expectations. I have to accept them for who they are and what they have to offer — even if it’s nothing.
I have to know my audience and share accordingly. If that means I keep my feelings to myself, so be it. If they are truly interested in knowing what’s going on and I feel safe, I can share my innermost issues.
I spent a lot of time trying to force others to see me for who I am, and it led to exhaustion, stress, anxiety, and resentment. I’m done. I will accept others for who they truly are and not who I want or need them to be, with the understanding that may mean I won’t interact with them as often.
In my writing world, my stories aren’t for everyone, and I don’t try to force someone who doesn’t want to read them to read them. I’m learning that the same is true for my life as well. It’s tough and painful, but knowing my audience will eventually lead me to finding those who accept and support me for who I truly am.
