Some weeks ago, I wrote about a conversation with a friend revolving around sun protection. As I wrote then, I’m no fan of commercial SPF products, preferring instead to guard my skin through diet, zinc, and other non-toxic protectors. I said as much to my friend, and something must’ve ticked her off, because she’s been on a quest ever since to make me change my mind. Bombarding me with posts about how SPF is important.
Now, I wouldn’t be against that per se, if they were well-constructed and well-reasoned. I feel it’s important to be willing, at least, to consider arguments that may change your opinion. Sadly, these are chicken-brained posts for the most part along the lines of this is X. She never uses SPF and look at her now. X’s twin, Y, is very diligent about SPF and looks ten years younger.
That’s a non-argument. It’s offensive both as a thinking person, and as someone even vaguely understanding marketing, as that (all in all) is a poor, lazy write-up.
Anyway, it got me thinking about this obsessive compulsion to get others to agree with you.
We saw a lot of this during the pandemic, particularly around the vaccine. The inability to accept that other people may have their opinion, are entitled to it, as they are to their own medical freedom. Personally, I never thought getting vaccinated was a good idea, but I was never particularly concerned about what others thought about it. If at all, my concern always revolved around compliance, and the encouragement of state-organized tyranny. Not about your personal choice.
I don’t care. I can make my decisions without needing everyone to confirm them for me. You should be able to do the same.
But not everyone can. I felt in this friend an insistence that I make amends, that I see the error of my ways about SPF and change for the better. See, it’d be comforting to think it’s out of personal concern this is happening, but like in the previous years, I don’t think it is.
When are we most likely to seek confirmation?
When we’re doubtful of something. If it starts raining outside, I won’t go to my brother and ask him if it’s raining. I know it is, I can see it. If I reach out, I will touch the rain, ergo I have proof.
But when we’re unsure of facts or decisions, that’s when we need someone else to hold our hand, and say we did the right thing. I thought this was very telling during the pandemic, this compulsive need to get me or other people against the vaccine to agree, to repent.
...Why?
What’s it matter to you?
Then, I expect, some (very few) were genuinely concerned about their relatives or friends, and thought only getting jabbed would save them. But this insistence went beyond that, to global levels. People became very riled that there were people on the Internet who did not condone their choice. Why? It doesn’t matter to me if you agree with my medical choices, or with my choice to get my skin tattooed, or my nose pierced. Why should it matter to you?
Because you’re unsure. Because if I do it, too, then you can say everyone’s doing it, and then that’s fine.
This wouldn’t be worth writing about, were it not for the potentially serious medical decisions that come along. It’s one thing for me to buy a top I’m not sure of. It’s quite another to spring for medical practices I’m doubtful of.
And yes, I do count using SPF in that realm, because the metals and chemicals in many commercial SPF products have been linked to cancer, and thus have a direct impact on your health.
Me, I wouldn’t be rubbing carcinogens, then letting my skin absorb them in the sunlight, if I wasn’t sure it was worth it. Which leads us to fear. We get afraid that we’re making the wrong choice, but doing our due diligence is lengthy, and boring, and tricky. So we channel that fear into bullying, into insisting that other people agree with us.
Confirm my unsound decision, and maybe that makes it okay.
Seems like a bet I wouldn’t take, you know?
I know doing your research is time-consuming and difficult, but it’s also extremely rewarding. You can go into whatever medical practice or health-related decision with the certainty that this is something that works for you, that you deem worthy.
At the end of the day, you are responsible for your body. What goes on, and into it. My condoning or disapproving your decisions is my own, and my privilege. Because I am not responsible for your body.
