A self-described “germaphobe” shared with me their challenging experience at a work function. The presence of food triggered an embarrassing moment for them, which ultimately led to tears.
When you have behaviors and nuances that others might judge you for, do you hide them from the world? Should you?
Sometimes, we can’t hide who we are.
Today, I want to explore the concept of cause and effect. A member of The Overwhelmed Brain Empowerment group on Facebook shared an incident that occurred at their workplace.
They recounted, “A trauma response hit me hard during a company potluck. Everyone brought dishes to celebrate, and it was scheduled to start at a specific time. Because of my past in food services, I’m cautious about eating food prepared by others—I’m definitely a germophobe.
“To avoid judgment, as I’ve faced it before, I decided to sneak into the break room early to get some of my own dish before others did. However, an office colleague walked in and said it wasn’t time yet and that the owner would be upset if I started early.
“I tried to explain that putting the food back wouldn’t be sanitary, but I ended up hiding my own food to avoid getting everyone in trouble. This brought back so many negative emotions that I ended up crying at work, right in the center of everyone’s view.
“I was so embarrassed, I cried myself to sleep that night, feeling like a 10-year-old who couldn’t do anything right. Now I’m just sad and foggy-headed. How do I get through this?“
To the person who wrote that, I appreciate your openness in sharing this; it’s not easy to reveal such vulnerabilities. As adults, we sometimes forget that our inner child can surface, bringing with it a whirlwind of emotions.
When we find ourselves crying over something, it can transport us back to childhood, as this person experienced, feeling like they were ten again. These emotional triggers from our past, if left unaddressed, can emerge at the most inconvenient times.
I recall a personal incident where I lost my temper with a friend’s child. I thought I had concealed my anger well, but Asha, my fiancée, noticed. She pointed out my anger, and I realized it was a moment for personal growth. I needed to reflect on this because it was a reaction I wasn’t aware I had in me. Like the person who shared their story, we strive for control, to not lose it in front of others, and to not feel foolish or embarrassed.
In my opinion, maintaining control is preferable, which is why I steer clear of alcohol and drugs. I don’t like feeling out of control. Since that incident with our friend’s kid, I’ve worked on the anger I felt in that moment. I have learned that when I get to the point of maximum frustration, and someone is giving me a hard time, I have a shorter fuse.
That incident was the wake-up call I needed. It was a message that not only is one’s personal development an ongoing journey, but unaddressed or unprocessed stuff can sneak up on us out of the blue.
When our inner child is emotionally triggered, it can feel like a part of us has taken over. Our fight, flight, or freeze response can kick in, pushing our rational, controlled self into the backseat as our instincts take the wheel, attempting to protect us. However, these instincts might be reacting to outdated ‘programming’ from our past, mistaking a harmless situation for a dangerous one.
To the person who shared their potluck story, I can relate to being cautious about eating food prepared by others. It requires trust that their home kitchen meets the same standards as yours, which isn’t always the case. We don’t have health inspectors in our homes, after all. I myself have a fear that when there’s dip, inevitably, there will be someone who double dips their chip!
Emotional triggers are powerful, and when they’re tied to past experiences, they can lead to unexpected reactions. It’s about recognizing these moments and working through them so we’re not caught off guard by our own emotions.
I’ve definitely had my moments with germophobia, especially when it comes to food at social gatherings. Take, for example, a buffet. There’s an inherent trust that everyone is following the unspoken rules of hygiene, like using the serving utensils instead of their hands.
But even when I’m with my friends and a communal dip is on the table, I have a little trick up my sleeve—I’ll grab a separate bowl for Asha and me. This way, we can all indulge in a little double dipping without worry.
I don’t make a fuss and tell everyone, “Don’t double dip because it grosses me out!” Instead, I take the initiative to manage my own comfort by saying, “Let me get my own.”
That’s my go-to strategy when I’m worried about a “food incident.” So if you ever find yourself at a gathering with me, that’s what you’ll see me doing. It’s my way of coping with my own germophobia without imposing on others.
Over time, I’ve actually become more relaxed about this. Maybe it’s the wisdom of aging, thinking, “Hey, I’ve survived this long, encountered countless germs, and I’m still okay.”
You might be nodding your head, thinking about how our bodies need germs to build up antibodies to fight off future invaders. I totally understand that perspective. However, in the past, I used to obsess over germs. And that can lead one down a rabbit hole of more obsessing.
If you are a germophobe yourself, I have a piece of advice: don’t ever look at anything under a microscope. If you do, you might never want to eat or sleep again.
I won’t go into the gory details, but let’s just say at the microscopic level, there’s a whole world of activity taking place inside and outside of our bodies—things communicating, fighting, and collaborating without our awareness.
Most of us are blissfully ignorant of these microscopic battles, and that’s probably for the best. It keeps us from obsessing over what we can’t see or control. But if we focus too much on the germiness of everything, we can develop an unhealthy obsession. We start making images in our mind and can even start to smell what germs can do to food… This kind of obsessive thinking can lead to fear that sticks with us for years or maybe even a lifetime.
And that’s not the way to live. We shouldn’t spend our days fixated on things that likely won’t harm us. And if they do, why waste decades of our lives worrying about something that might have only affected us once?
The truth is, despite our best efforts, we can’t avoid everything we obsess over. It’s a tough pill to swallow, but it’s the reality. So, while it’s natural to have concerns about hygiene, it’s important to find a balance that allows us to enjoy life without being paralyzed by fear of the microscopic unknown. After all, life is too short to spend it in a state of constant worry.
As I’ve matured, I’ve come to realize that it’s nearly impossible to avoid everything that causes me anxiety. The more I fixate on my fears, the more they diminish my ability to enjoy life’s simple pleasures, like a meal or a handshake. This obsessive behavior only serves to reinforce the distressing images in my mind.
I recall a lesson from one of my mentors. He shared a story about a student who was plagued by a terrifying mental image that left them paralyzed with fear.
When the student confessed their struggle, the mentor asked, “Why do you picture that?” The student said they didn’t think they had any control over what popped into their mind. However, the teacher challenged the student to replace the negative image they were creating with a positive one.
This conversation stuck with me because it highlighted the power of choice in the images we create in our minds. Sure, there are times when traumatic memories surface involuntarily, but we also have the power to envision something different.
For instance, if a past dog bite haunts you, why not imagine a friendly dog playing with you instead? Layering a positive image over a negative one can change how you feel. It’s a technique I learned during my coaching training and found quite fascinating. With practice, you can replace an unwanted image with one of your own choosing.
This isn’t to say that this method is a cure for PTSD or deep-seated trauma, but it’s a practice that can offer some relief. It’s about allowing your adult self to take the reins and decide which images to focus on rather than letting your inner child, or subconscious, dictate your thoughts with images that cause fear and poor decision-making.
Simplistic as it may sound, this isn’t therapy, just another perspective on managing the mental pictures and sounds that shape our experiences. Take my germophobia, for instance. Not so long ago, the thought of double dipping would trigger a cascade of unsavory images in my mind—mouths on chips, fingers on chips, and the germs that come with them.
I decided I didn’t want to entertain those thoughts anymore. They only served to upset me and disrupt my peace of mind. Stopping these images allowed me to approach situations with a more balanced mindset.
It’s not about changing my behavior or tolerating something that makes me uncomfortable; it’s about not allowing those images to control me. By catching and changing these thoughts as they arise, we can steer our mental state in a more positive direction.
The story from the person who wrote to me likely touches on something more profound, probably rooted in their upbringing or childhood experiences. Maybe it was a parent warning them against chewing gum from the floor, emphasizing how filthy and germ-ridden it was, possibly making them sick.
While that would be a valid concern for most parents (who wants their child eating off the floor?), it makes you wonder, what does that message become in a child’s mind? What’s the takeaway?
These interpretations stick with us, generalizing into broader aspects of our lives. If we stop questioning them, we end up carrying around fears and behaviors that might not even warrant a second thought.
We inherit these patterns, beliefs, and ideas, believing they’re just part of who we are and that there’s nothing we can do about it. But they all started somewhere in the past.
If this person were in front of me, I’d ask about their earliest memory of, say, being a germaphobe. When did it all begin? It could be something from a very young age that they don’t even recall.
I always look for that starting point, even when I’m doing this with myself, working on my own issues. If I can’t remember the first time, I speculate—what could it have been?
For the person who wrote, perhaps they learned their habits from watching one of their parents thinking that’s how life should be; otherwise, everything would fall apart. Yet, sometimes, we make life harder by adopting what we think is beneficial but isn’t because someone else believes it is.
We’re aware of the infections and diseases out there, and that can foster fear and obsessive thoughts. Then, we find ourselves living in fear of catching what someone else has. Sometimes, that fear is justified, but other times, it’s worth looking back and acknowledging how far we’ve come.
I’m not addressing those who are immunocompromised or who must be extra cautious. I’m speaking to those with a generally healthy immune system who’ve survived plenty and might not need to be so vigilant.
I’m not suggesting throwing caution to the wind, but when caution turns to obsession, that’s when we must be wary of diminishing our quality of life for the sake of protection from things we might not be able to shield ourselves from anyway. After all, if we were to look through a microscope at the microbial world, we might not want to know what’s there. Yet, understanding these things can also be beneficial.
This isn’t my advice to this person, but rather thoughts I’m sharing as a foundation, things that have helped me overcome some of my own germophobic tendencies. I’ve come to realize that constant stress and worry only breed more of the same. I grew tired of stressing over things like someone double-dipping. It’s just not worth it.
I must admit, there’s a certain irony in realizing that I’ve shared kisses with people, exchanging more than just fleeting moments but actual fluids. Some might recoil at the thought, while others revel in the intimacy.
And then there are those who don’t give it a second thought. I never used to, until one day, I found myself pondering, “Why the hesitation to share a drink or a meal after having been so close?”
It struck me that we often fixate on potential harm, letting fear overshadow the fact that we’ve navigated life just fine without such worries.
When we don’t overthink, we seem to sail through most issues unscathed.
I’m not talking about those with compromised immune systems who must be vigilant; I’m addressing the obsessive thoughts that can hinder our quality of life.
Coming back to the message I received. They said they were experiencing sadness and grappling with brain fog. They said they felt so embarrassed that they couldn’t face returning to work, where a situation brought them to tears.
At the start of this article, I touched on cause and effect. When I hear stories like this, I try to cut through the extraneous so that I can pinpoint the root cause of the issue.
In the message, the writer mentions not wanting to explain themselves to avoid judgment. This hints at a past experience, perhaps something that left a deeper mark. Digging further, they shared an incident of hiding their food to prevent trouble, which resurfaced painful emotions, leading to tears at work.
There’s a significant clue in the act of hiding food they paid for and prepared – it’s tied to a fear of collective reprimand.
So, I pose these reflective questions:
What would happen if you didn’t conceal your food?
What’s the worst that could occur if everyone faced the consequences of starting to eat early?
These are crucial queries that can help unravel the knot of fear and judgment.
You might believe that if trouble ensued, it would be your fault, but why is that such a negative outcome? If it led to others being upset with you, why should that matter so much?
I’m not dismissing the desire to be liked. I, along with many others, want that, too. But it’s essential to explore what underlies these fears, be it shame, guilt, or something else. By asking seemingly silly questions, we can dive into the heart of the issue.
What if your actions led to everyone getting in trouble?
Would the shame or disappointment be so unbearable? And why?
What’s inherently wrong with disappointing others?
This is the kind of introspection I practice on myself, relentlessly digging until I uncover the core of my fears or the reasons behind my actions. It’s not about settling for easy answers; it’s about truly understanding the origins of our reactions and emotions.
You shared that you were overwhelmed with embarrassment, leading to tears before sleep. What was at the heart of your distress? Was it a sense of shame for not standing up for yourself?
Or maybe it was the thought of others judging you, labeling you as foolish or unintelligent?
It seems to me that your concern might be rooted in how others perceive you. And honestly, if you’re worried about being seen as a germaphobe, so what? I consider myself one to a certain extent, and it’s not a big deal. It’s part of who you are. And in my book, that’s something to embrace.
“Yes, I’m cautious about germs. No, I won’t be sharing that dip with you, and I’m okay with that. Are you going to call me out for it? That’s your prerogative, but it doesn’t change who I am. I understand you might not be bothered by it, but it matters to me. That’s my stance.”
Embracing your quirks or habits, as long as they’re harmless to others, is the way to go.
Why do I avoid the dip? Because double-dipping just doesn’t sit right with me. Will some people find it odd? Possibly, but that’s their issue, not mine.
I’d hope my friends would respect the choices I make instead of mocking me for them.
True friends honor who you are.
At work, you might face some teasing, and that’s a different scenario. These colleagues may not be lifelong friends or guests at your wedding; they’re just people you work with. We all have our quirks and peculiarities, and that’s okay. And I promise, I’m not downplaying your feelings; they’re valid and significant. We all have our nuances – what makes us unique.
By now, you’ve probably returned to work and found that the incident isn’t the talk of the office anymore. If that’s the case, consider it a triumph. You faced a fear and came out the other side. Reflect on what scared you. What would have happened if everyone got in trouble or if the owner had been upset, as you mentioned?
Who was the person who walked in and dictated what you should do anyway? Are they the authority on party etiquette or food regulations? Why should they have a say in your actions?
It’s not about rebellion; it’s about standing your ground and being true to yourself. “This is who I am, and I’m okay with that” is a powerful statement to make, even if only to yourself.
Adopting the mindset that you are fine just as you are is liberating. If you have particular habits that others might find strange, that’s their problem, not yours. They’re the ones being judgmental. Everyone has their own life to figure out, so why should they focus on yours? If you’re comfortable with who you are, there’s no need for change.
Some people navigate life with their unique behaviors without a second thought, while others stress over public perception, which can hinder true happiness and self-acceptance.
Absolutely, feeling at ease with who you are and what’s happening in your life is a significant step forward. As long as you’re not causing harm to anyone else, any discomfort they feel due to their judgments is their own to manage.
Embrace your identity and your actions because, sure, you might have aspects to work on, but those are for you to address, not for others to critique. If someone else is affected because they can’t look beyond their perception of you, that’s their burden to bear.
Now I want to talk about this person’s fear of certain potential events, like a fear of being fired.
What’s really at the core of this fear? If you’re worried about losing your job, it’s likely because it’s your source of income. But let’s explore that further. I assume you’ve been without a job before, and you’ve managed to survive. Our past experiences can serve as reference points, showing us that you we make it through tough times.
This is why it’s critical to dig deep and uncover the true, underlying fears. If you’re fired, you’re concerned about not having money or insurance, and these are valid worries. However, it’s not about becoming fearless and indifferent to the possibility of being fired. Rather, it’s about not letting that fear dominate your life. After all, the things we worry about may never happen, and that’s the essence of anxiety—fretting over possibilities that may not come to pass.
I’ve experienced anxiety over financial matters myself. When income is low, it’s easy to spiral into fear. But then I remind myself, where is this fear coming from? I know that if I needed to, I’d start job hunting immediately and would find something eventually. I’d take any job necessary to get by. Not everyone has the same options, but we all have past experiences that prove we’ve overcome challenges.
You’re still here, which means you’ve survived difficult times. These experiences are proof that you can get through adversity and sometimes even thrive. Often, the tough situations you’ve faced have brought unexpected benefits. Reflecting on these can be helpful as you move forward.
Regarding the fear of upsetting your boss, it’s worth asking yourself why. Why fear disappointing someone? If it’s because you don’t want to lose your job, then why is that scary? Because you need to pay bills? It may seem like a silly question, but it’s an essential one. It prompts you to investigate the deeper issues at play.
Exploring the roots of our behaviors and decisions can sometimes take us back to feeling like a child again—vulnerable, crying, and regressing to an earlier version of ourselves.
In these moments, we might feel utterly powerless, as if we can’t do anything right or help ourselves out of a difficult situation. It’s as though we’re in trouble, and our caretakers are displeased with us. And why is their disapproval a problem? It’s because we yearn for love and acceptance; we don’t want to be in an environment devoid of affection.
When we ask ourselves why it’s an issue if our caretakers are upset with us, we get to the heart of our need for love. We don’t want to be in a home where no one cares for us. But why is that troubling?
If you pursue the answers to these questions, you might uncover the deepest, most compelling forces driving your behavior.
For instance, if you say you don’t want to feel alone, question why solitude is perceived negatively. Now you’re touching on some profound survival instincts! This is the point where you might confront your fear of non-existence, which can be akin to the fear of death.
And why is death or non-existence problematic?
These are not easy questions, and they may seem daunting or even unfair. I’m not suggesting you obsess over them. Some people do fixate on these fears, but the purpose of these questions is to help you dig beneath what you think you’re afraid of or what you believe you should fear because there’s always something deeper.
I can’t say for certain if this will be helpful or if there’s a solution here for the person who wrote to me, but if I were in your shoes or had gone through what you’ve been through, these are the questions I would ask.
This process of digging deeper, learning about myself on a more profound level, and being comfortable in my own skin is what I would focus on. I have come to a point in my life where I can comfortably tell someone, “I’m sorry you can’t accept me for who I am, but it’s who I am. If you have an issue with it, well, that’s something you might need to discuss with your therapist.”
That’s just me, though! You may not want to be in that space, and that’s okay. But you can get there once you’re truly comfortable being the truly authentic version of yourself. I know that’s a journey in itself, but I think it’s one worth taking.
Coming back to your comment about feeling like a ten-year-old who couldn’t do anything right and constantly found themselves in trouble without even trying, it’s clear that this experience might be at the heart of a deeper issue.
This feeling of helplessness and the fear of being reprimanded without cause might be the spark that ignited a cascade of challenges later in life. When you’re that young and constantly facing criticism, it’s natural to wonder what is at stake. Thinking back, what was the loss you feared so much?
Occasionally, I circle back to this question: What was it that you were afraid of losing?
Imagine being disciplined by a parent or guardian, being told you’re always in trouble, or worse, hearing the harsh words that you can’t do anything right. It’s a tough scenario to consider, but it happens, and when it does, it’s often driven by the fear of losing something significant—something that, if lost, would leave us deeply upset.
My guess? It could be the fear of losing your parents’ love and affection. I hinted at this earlier when discussing our deep-seated needs.
Identifying what you were afraid of losing or what you longed for more of is crucial. Once you pinpoint that fear, self-parenting can become an invaluable tool. This is about nurturing your inner child, the one who was scared of losing love, support, or whatever else they needed.
By giving your inner child what they lacked back then, you begin to bridge the gap in your life. It’s a straightforward concept, yet it’s potent.
Self-parenting involves addressing the needs and fears of your inner child, which is essentially you in your younger years, still grappling with the same thoughts, fears, aspirations, and confusions that were never resolved.
As you mature into adulthood, these unresolved issues can manifest in other aspects of your life, often in ways that don’t quite fit the adult world. Carrying these outdated beliefs and patterns can lead to the kinds of experiences you described in your message.
By consciously providing your inner child with what they didn’t receive or what they feared losing—and perhaps still believe they lack today—you can start to heal those old wounds.
Your inner child carries all those unresolved thoughts and emotions, and as you grow, these can inadvertently shape your life. Addressing them can prevent the past from spilling over into your present and future.
Reflecting on a troubling experience from my own childhood, I recall being four years old and enduring an abusive situation. It wasn’t extreme, but it was still abuse.
To process and heal from that later on in life, I mentally returned to that time, envisioning my younger self in distress. I offered him the comfort and reassurance he desperately needed, affirming that not everyone would cause him harm and that he was worthy of love and care.
This visualization was a powerful moment of self-support; I became the protector my inner child needed, showing him that he was lovable and that he wasn’t going to go through this alone. I wanted him to know that his suffering would end and that I would be there for him for his entire life.
My commitment to my inner child has been unwavering. Whenever he feels overwhelmed, I step in, not to scold but to guide him, ensuring him that it’s safe and that he doesn’t need to succumb to his emotional triggers. This approach has been transformative, teaching my inner child that he doesn’t need to flee or fear any longer.
A poignant part of my healing journey involved revisiting the house where I lived when the abuse occurred. It was unplanned, sort of. I was walking by the house I grew up in, and my only intention was to walk by it. I wanted to see it. I wanted to know what it looked like today after all these years.
I saw the new owners who just happened to be outside working on trimming the bushes or something like that. They looked at me with a friendly smile and said, “Hi!”
I said Hi back. I told them, ‘I used to live here!’ The guy’s eyes widened, and he smiled more. “You did?”
I said, “Yes. I was a child. I lived here for quite a few years. I even have pictures of this house when I was young, but I just wanted to just see what it looked like today.”
He got so excited. He said, “Well, come on in!”
I said, “Are you kidding me?”
“No, come in! See what we did to it.”
I followed him inside and noticed right away the house was brighter and more cheerful than I remembered (a stark contrast to the darkness of my past.)
While he was describing all their updates, I mentally acknowledged my younger self, who lived in that house at the time but from my perspective as an adult. In that very brief moment, I offered words of love and protection to that younger me.
This short but intense connection, made in the actual location of my past trauma, was a profound healing experience for me.
I left the house that day feeling a significant shift within me, grateful for the homeowners’ kindness in allowing me to revisit a place that held so much pain.
My experience reinforced the importance of nurturing the wounded parts of myself. Sometimes, we need to provide the support and strength our younger selves never received. In doing so, we can begin to heal the emotional scars we carry and reclaim control over our lives, armed with the knowledge, power, and resources we possess as adults.
We may not always feel like we have it all together, but I guarantee that you are much more adept and able to handle life’s challenges than who you were as a child. That’s why it’s so important to remember that the inner child, the younger “you,” needs to know that the older you – who you are today – can handle things. They need to know you are going to help them through the hard times.
That isn’t easy when you are dealing with a lot of stress and unprocessed trauma from your past. But the more you practice showing yourself that it’s okay to be who you are, the more you will be exactly who you want to be.
That definitely makes the inner child feel safe, secure, and maybe even happy. And that gift is something you and the younger you can both benefit from.
