Several years ago, it dawned on me that I was no longer obsessed with other people’s approval.
I had grown strong enough in my identity as an image-bearer of God that I no longer craved constant affirmation. Of course, it was still nice when I got it, but I didn’t need it to validate my worth. I had attained the unattainable: I was no longer a People Pleaser. It felt freeing. I must be a pretty mature Christian. To God be the glory and all that good stuff.
I did have a nagging problem though. From time to time, I found myself consumed with worries about how I might have offended or hurt someone. My brain has the knack of remembering exact conversations, some of which went back ten or twenty years.