Do They Like Me?

Back in Mrs. Oliphant’s 4^th grade class I had serious teacher’s pet issues. The absolute most important thing in my 9-year-old mind was pleasing the teacher with my brilliant questions and answers in class. The next most important thing was having more stars next to my name on the spelling word chart than anyone else. If I ever had the slightest inkling that anyone had outshone me in either of those two areas, I would become morose and mean.

Over the next many years, I got over most of that – thanks largely to long hours of free therapy from my father, who was, conveniently, a psychologist. Were it not for that fortunate coincidence I would be a much bigger mess today than I am.

Nowadays I don’t fancy myself terribly in need of the approval of others. I certainly don’t care if anyone likes what I wear, how I cook or the way I decorate my house. And I’ve long thought I was pretty secure in my professional abilities. But this week I’ve felt like a fourth grader again.

I keep telling myself it’s just new-job jitters, but I’ve been a bundle of self-conscious anxiety. Are they happy with me? Do they like my work? Is it exceeding their expectations? Are they sorry they hired me?

I know that all my coworkers and superiors are preoccupied with doing their own jobs. I know that people rarely comment on each other’s work aside from the cursory “Nice job.” I know that I come across as very competent and the last person likely to need ego-stroking.

Rationally speaking, I have no reason to believe my new employer is not 100-percent satisfied with the job I’m doing. I’ve given it my all. I’ve exceeded initial goals set out for me. I’ve felt good about all of the work I’ve done.

But here I am wondering and doubting and hating that I’m wondering and doubting, because I know it’s silly.

I suppose I could just ask them if they’re happy with me. But I worry they will think I’m either (a) fishing for compliments, or (b) giving them reason to doubt me.

Maybe I should just ask if we can start a star chart in the office, so my inner 9-year-old always knows exactly she stands.